


Intro: Long Journey

by 0KKULTiC



Series: We Would Be Savage [1]
Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: Alien Character(s), Alternate Universe - Future, Alternate Universe - Space, Crimes, Criminal!Wooyoung, Eventual slow burn romance in this series idk, Fate & Destiny, Gen, Guess who the E to L are it aint hard, Hybrid People, HybridPuppy!Yunho, I spent hours on writing and all i got was this lousy AU, Junker!Hongjoong, Lasers, Lots of inspo from sci-fi serieses and one piece lowkey, Profanity, Sci-Fi, Science Fiction, Setup for Enemies to Lovers, Space Combat, Space Ships, Space Stations, Strong!Jongho, Warning: hwa is a bit of a twat in the early story arcs i am SORRY!!!, We meet the others in later stories, jail break, light Violence, more to come - Freeform, part of a series, space western
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-21
Updated: 2019-04-21
Packaged: 2020-01-23 09:11:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 38,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18546733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/0KKULTiC/pseuds/0KKULTiC
Summary: Kim Hongjoong and Jeong Yunho are just a couple of junkers who’ve flown a long way from their home planet (Earth KQ09081). Their routine excavation  goes haywire when the ground caves in beneath them. Beneath the surface of the crappy dustbowl of a planet, Hongjoong discovers a device he thinks to be the fabled Compass - an ancient adventurer’s map to the mysterious Treasure.Finding the arcane device feels like destiny to the junker, and he’s ready to embark on a great journey to find the enigmatic “Treasure”.Unfortunately, destiny’s got other plans.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> // WARNING(s): This work is unbeta’d and will likely contain increased spelling and grammatical errors.

Swaths of lavender and gold sweep across the sky. Burning orange, the sun’s last fleeting rays reach across the azure depths of the ocean onto the beach. There lies a single young man, solitary yet content. Kim Hongjoong lies spread out on the grainy cushion. Salt water spray tickles his skin, and waves crash softly in the distance. 

 

His vision blurs and smudges the veritable rainbow of colors cast by the sunset in the dusk sky. Goldenrod, scarlet, and lilac chase the setting sun, gradually giving way to navy. The man’s body is there, yet not there at all. No, he thinks. His body is there, but he is not. His soul floats ever so slightly above the body he knows to be his. 

 

It feels… Far away. Yet right. His soul does not need its mortal shackles for contentment. He is free to drift, to let the wind carry him just ever so slightly closer to the ocean. 

 

So he lets it.

 

Kim Hongjoong’s soul sails sluggishly. It meets the gentle tide and tiptoes across the seafoam, beholding the blazing inevitability of a star waning from the sky. 

 

That’s when he hears it. 

 

Not the distant chatter of the gulls nor the gentle ebb and flow of the water, but a voice.

 

It’s wistful and soft, and it tickles Hongjoong’s ear.

 

The voice says:

  
“People want it.”

 

Hongjoong tries to turn, to see, but he cannot see his body. He has no head to turn for he’s but a soul, a specter not too familiar with being outside of himself. He sees a shadow, long and black, extending forward. It makes no sense. It disagrees with the basic laws of physics. A shadow ought to stand opposite the light, yet this one stretches far, far ahead - so much so that it extends beyond the edge of the tide - almost as if it’s trying to reach that smoldering sun that ought to banish it.

 

“People dream about it,” Says the shadow. “It can be different to every individual.”

 

The floating soul cannot ask who this man is. He has no voice, no mouthpiece through which to be heard. So he does all he can, he listens to this shadow’s words.

 

“It can complete us or it can destroy us.

 

It can change the world.

 

People call it… Treasure.”

  
Treasure. Something concrete. Something Kim Hongjoong understands. Something Kim Hongjoong seeks (though he doesn’t dare tell a soul). Once again, the urge to speak out, to ask questions, rises in the soul. But, once again, he is silenced by his own inability to respond. 

 

“The sound of wind blowing from the horizon… The warmth of the sun hitting the ocean waves… The vibration of sand beating like the hearts of youth. We’re at the starting point of this long journey.”

 

We?

 

Who is we?

 

The soul wonders. His heartbeat hastens, but he can do nothing but hear.

 

“The freezing winds may make us shiver. The heat of the sun may make us thirsty- the vibrations of the sand may swallow us. But we’ll never stop. 

 

Gold!

 

Eternal life!

 

Honor!

 

Love!

 

Fame!

 

It doesn’t matter what you dream for. So let me ask you:

 

What

 

Is

 

Your

 

Treasure?”

 

Hongjoong’s entire visceral being seizes. 

 

What is his Treasure? 

 

He wants to answer. He desires the Treasure more than anything else. It consumes him - his entire existence steeped in that desire. Yet, he can do nothing to communicate. Had he eyes, tears would stream out of them.

 

He tries, he tries so hard. All he can do is think. Think and feel - so he does just that. He thinks and thinks and thinks and thinks - he thinks over and over again: “What is my Treasure? I can’t tell you, but I want it, I want it so bad.” He feels intensely, he feels it: desire. Pure, unadulterated, carnal, primal, heart wrenching, teeth gnashing desire.

 

He’s not sure if the shadow - the one that seems to stretch further and further toward the horizon with every second - hears him. 

 

All that shadow says in response is:

 

“Will you join us?”

 

* * *

 

“...joong… Hongjoong…”

 

“Mn…”

 

“Kim Hongjoong…”

 

“Mnnmn-”

 

“Kim Hongjoong…?”

 

“...”

 

“Hongjoong!” A voice exclaims.

 

Kim Hongjoong wakes with a start, eyes wide and heart practically jumping out through his throat, “Wh- Treasure- Wh-”

 

_ “Clunk!” _

 

Hongjoong hisses as a projectile makes contact with his head. His faces distorts with pain, and his hand shoots to rub the sore spot of contact. 

 

“O-Ow what the- Yunho!” He grumbles in the general direction of whatever had been thrown at him. Sunlight practically blinds him as he tries to actually open his eyes. It takes him a few seconds to adjust, and the bright light just makes his head throb even more. When his vision finally clears, Hongjoong is met with the sight of his pesky partner in crime.

 

“I tried to call you,” Replies the guilty party: aka, Jeong Yunho. “Sorry, I didn’t think it’d hit you right on the head.” His curled tail wags giddily, completely betraying his severe lack of guilt. Hongjoong scowls at the other, but his anger fades. 

 

It’s hard to be mad at Yunho what with him being a humecanis. He’s just so damn cute. Whenever Hongjoong wants to chew him out for being a jackass (which is often) he just sees that fluffy tail and it’s game over. Hongjoong will never understand why the human race just decided to one day splice DNA just so people could have tails. Aesthetics is his guess, but that seems like such a stupid reason to change someone’s genetics. The result was, of course, the various human hybrid races that are well known in present day. 

 

That’s all fine and dandy, except for the part where - at some point - humans got pissed that there were so many of them. They went to the trouble of making them all those years ago, and it’s like they forgot they wanted them around or something. Like ‘sorry we didn’t realize you guys would reproduce, now there’s so many, guess we better oppress you or something’. Joong tries not to think too much about it. He can’t really think much of anything with how his head throbs, not to mention the rest of his body.

 

Looking at his surroundings, Hongjoong slowly fits the pieces of the puzzle together. He’d fallen asleep on top of a scrap heap. One of many, many scrap heaps on the desolate throwaway planet.

 

“How long was I out?” Asks Hongjoong.

 

“I dunno. Maybe twenty minutes?” Yunho shrugs. Figures he wasn’t paying attention. “Honestly I’m impressed you could fall asleep on all of this shit.” Yunho kicks aside a hunk of scrap as if to illustrate his point. It makes a caterwaul as it rolls down the massive hill of scraggly metal, scraping and clanging until hitting what appears to be the base with a loud thud.

 

“Yeah, no kidding,” Hongjoong says. He stretches out a bit and manages to dig about a dozen random metal things into his bottom in the process. It’s definitely time to stand up. No faster than a sloth, he does just that, his body protesting with a fresh wave of pain. He feels heavy, like he’d been filled with lead - not to mention the jabbing headache. “Find anything good while I was passed out?” He asks Yunho.

 

Yunho purses his lips, “Oh, I see. You get to nap while I do all the work, huh?”

 

“Yeah, I’m the leader,” Hongjoong snarks back, slowly regaining his footing on the uneven pile of old ship parts and discontinued machinery. “That’s what leaders do.”

 

“Oh, well, then you’re doing great!” Yunho jokingly gives him a thumbs up.

 

“I try,” The “leader” of the two looks at their surroundings.

 

Scrap, scrap, and oh- more scrap.

 

Harsh sunlight blares down relentlessly on the little dry corner of the discarded “Earth”. When the humans of Old Earth had started their whole terraforming expansion project, they’d set foot on every planet and meaningful mass they could find. Even with their best efforts, the ecosystems just didn’t take on every planet. This is one of them. 

 

One of many failed planets, relegated to garbage dumps or biowaste facilities.

 

Hongjoong can’t remember the name of it. Is it “Earth SM01270”? Or “Earth HFE5164”? 

 

Oh well, he thinks. Doesn’t matter. It’s just another dump anyways. But, hey, like they say: “one man’s trash is another man’s treasure” - the mantra of junkers everywhere. It’s not glamorous, prestigious, or even safe, but it’s honest work. For that, Hongjoong is thankful.

 

What he’s  _ not  _ thankful for is the damn heat. Joong imagines the ozone layer of this particular “Earth” (honestly, it’s generous to even give it the moniker) is shredded. Sweat starts dropping down his brow, and the heat blurs everything in the distance. It doesn’t help that they’re standing on top of a pile of metal that’s acting like a massive mirror, reflecting it all back onto the two. Sometimes, Hongjoong thinks he’ll die like that one day. Roasted alive in a scrap heap. At least the vultures will be in for a good meal. Fried Joong, well done - pity they won’t have a dipping sauce.

 

“I did find something, though,” Yunho’s voice pulls Hongjoong out of his internal rambling.

 

“Oh- Really?” That piques the human’s interest. He carefully steps closer to get a look.

 

“Yeah, it’s good, too.” Yunho pulls something out of the massive pockets of his long jacket. The metal’s a bit dirty but not rusted, encased between layers of thick, worn steel alloy and fictitreated glass is a metallic purple liquid.

 

“Shit,” A smile spreads across Hongjoong’s lips, “An atomic barrier fuel cell- it’s not even damaged!”

 

“I know,” Yunho beams. “It’s just drained is all.”

 

“Who the hell threw this away?!” 

 

“Rich people, man. That’s my only guess.”

 

“Yeah. Who else would throw away a perfectly good battery when you can just recharge it?” Joong coos at the nearly perfect specimen again, running a hand along the dusty glass. “We’re taking it. D’you find any others like it?”

 

“Nah. I mean- not yet. Some more might turn up, but who knows. Someone might’ve picked ‘em up already.”

 

“Yeah, right. Well, good boy- I mean good work,” Hongjoong clamps his lips shut. Yunho narrows his eyes but doesn’t say anything. The human swears he almost hears a low growl, but that just might be the wind rattling some rusted parts. As a human, Hongjoong feels really guilty when the pet lingo slips out. It’s sort of a sore spot for human hybrids and majorly insensitive (not that the average human gives a shit). Even knowing that, Hongjoong just sort of does it sometimes. His brain makes all kinds of shortcuts like “dark cloud means rain” and, sometimes, “wagging tail means good boy”.

 

“Okay, well, I covered that pile,” Yunho points the peak of a nearby heap.

 

“Right, and I covered this one,” Hongjoong looks beneath himself, “Before I fell asleep anyways… Why don’t we hit that one, the one to my right. There’s a couple more that way we haven’t gotten to, then we can loop back around the base and sweep for anything we missed on the way back to the ship. Sound like a plan?”

 

“Yes, sir,” Yunho nods affirmatively. The two carefully plod across the unstable mountain of discarded parts on their quest to find junk to sell. As they make their way down the pile they’d been standing on, Hongjoong’s mind starts to wander.

 

Foggy images of his dream resurface in his mind. The painterly colors of the sky, the seafoam floating on the surface of the deep, dark sea. That man - the lanky, inky shadow accompanied by a soft, dreamy voice… 

 

What a strange dream.

 

Though he’d just woken up, Hongjoong struggles to remember his encounter in its entirety. He remembers being paralyzed in air, and he remembers that voice, but… What did he say? Cautiously descending the metal heap, Hongjoong thinks and thinks and thinks. He wracks his brain, trying to pull words from the vague rememberance of that hushed voice.

 

Only one comes to mind:

 

Treasure.

 

Then it sparks in Hongjoong’s head: the question. The one thing that had burned itself most in his mind:

 

“What is your treasure?”

 

What, indeed?

 

Treasure. What a far away concept - a thing literally out of a story book. 

 

Hongjoong still fondly remembers those days like they were yesterday. He can replay the memory of his papa reading him that old story over and over again. So maybe he doesn’t know the name anymore or even the author, but the story. That story sticks with him. It’s practically a part of him, embedded in his soul.

 

There’s many versions of it, but they all tell the same thing:

 

The tale of a young person who embarks on a journey for Treasure. Not just “treasure” -  _ the  _ Treasure. Sometimes, Treasure is a place. Sometimes, it’s a thing. It’s described as wealth, eternal life, and enlightenment in some tellings. Nobody’s quite sure. The only person who really knows is the adventurer who discovered it first, the one who put it on the mysterious map called the Compass. No matter what it is, it’s somewhere far, far away, and it takes a journey and a crew of scrappy but damn good people surrounding them. After many trials, they finally reach Treasure, and… 

 

Well, it usually ends there. There might be some merriment following, some basking in riches or romantic climax. 

 

They say it’s a fairy tale, but Hongjoong doesn’t believe it. He was so damn obsessed with the story as a kid, he asked about it incessantly. Most people just patronized him; some playfully tried to “indulge” him, but one person told him the truth. He approached the old, more kooky folks in the village. People dismissed old Ed Enn as a lunatic, just a scientist driven mad by his obsession with the trade and overexposure to chemicals, but Joong knew otherwise. The man was enlightened. He knew things, he’d been places. When he told Hongjoong that the Treasure is real, Hongjoong knew it to be true. That’s when he decided to become a Treasure hunter.

 

As stupid or childish or delusional as people say it is, he doesn’t care.

 

It’s real.

 

And he’s gonna be the one to find it.

 

“I think I found something!” Yunho shouts ahead of Hongjoong. The human’s eyes widen - he didn’t realize that Yunho had gotten so far ahead. Joong slides down the remainder of the scrap pile before hopping onto the next nearest one. “Wait- Nevermind,” Yunho retracts his statement sadly, tossing the ballistic casing away. (A choir of loud noises follow.)

 

“C’mon, Yunho, let’s go a little lower, we might be able to find something someone else missed.”

 

“Yes, sir,” The humecanis salutes animatedly, lopsided grin gracing his face. Joong chuckles. Leave it to Yunho to be cheery even when the sun’s melting them into the metal below. The human would never dare say it to the guy’s face, but he can’t help thinking: dogs really are man’s best friend.

 

* * *

 

Hongjoong stretches out languidly, soreness echoing through every one of his limbs from the movement.

 

“...two, three, four of those, and… One of these…” Yunho mutters to himself as he asses their haul. After a few more hours of scavenging, they’d managed to pull a few more choice pieces of junk: a bent discovery scanner, some old docking PCs, a couple of worn industrial heat sinks, and shield cells. Oh, and of course their battery find! Per usual, they’d lugged everything to where they’d docked for assessment. Though the pile looks pretty nice, but everything in it isn’t exactly mint. They’ll probably fetch a price enough to fuel their floating hunk of scrap called a ship and feed them for a week. It’ll do.

 

“How much do you think we’ll fetch for that battery?” Hongjoong asks hopefully.

 

“Hmm…” Yunho puts down his holo-tab and picks up their lucky battery find, “This one’s the prize for sure. We’ll have to sink five hundred to charge it-”

 

“Three hundred,” Joong corrects, “I know someone that’ll recharge her for three hundred.”

 

“Oh? Nice- Well, if we’re three hundred down I’m gonna guess we’ll get a thousand for it when it’s all shiny and charged.”

  
“Seven hundred profit?” Hongjoong nods, “Not bad.”

 

“That’s optimistic, though,” Yunho shrugs, “It’ll depend some on the buyer’s mood.”

 

“True,” Hongjoong frowns. If only they’d found another one of those suckers. They’d have the possibility for over a thousand credit profit - just on those alone. That’s just about what they’d get for everything else. It’d basically double their earnings. “True…” The human thinks for a second. He wracks his brain, straining to recall if he’d seen anything that looks remotely like a battery.

 

He strides up to Yunho, grabbing the battery and tossing it in his hand. Then, he gets an idea.

 

“Hey, Yunho.”

 

“What?” The younger one replies.

 

“Can you track it’s scent?” Hongjoong posits, biting his lip nervously. He extends the battery toward the other’s face, a hopeful gleam in his eye.

 

Yunho scrunches his nose, “It’s too damn dusty here. I can’t smell anything. Plus that thing’s covered in a layer of dirt. It probably smells the same as everything else.”

 

“Aw, come on,” Hongjoong pouts, wiping the battery off on his worn denim jacket. (That’s  _ definitely  _ gonna need washed.) “Can’t you blow your nose or something? Pour some water inside it like those weird sinus pot things?”

 

“What- Ew, no,” Yunho protests. “I mean- I’m not pouring water anywhere, but…” He sighs in defeat, “If you really want me to… Lemme go find a tissue.” 

 

“Thank you!” Hongjoong’s pout immediately blossoms into a massive grin. Yunho disappears into their junky ship, exiting with his face shoved into a tissue.

 

Beneath his breath, the humecanis grumbles something about “ungrateful” and “lackluster human noses”. Hongjoong just bats his full eyelashes at him gratefully.

 

“Give it here,” Yunho says, snatching the battery huffily. He presses the glass encasing to his nose and gives it a few sniffs. Luzidium in its plasma form is pretty dangerous, potent stuff. Though Hongjoong himself can’t smell it, he doesn’t doubt it’s got some sort of scent. It’s seriously diluted in batteries, but he prays it’s still enough. 

 

Hongjoong watches in anticipation as Yunho gives the old thing a few sniffs, scrunching his nose. He makes a few weird faces - like he’d tasted something really bitter - and Hongjoong hopes that’s a good sign. After a minute, Yunho hands it back.

 

“Ugh, that’s- It’s faint, but man that luzidium is bracing,” His face squinches. 

 

“You got it?” Hongjoong gasps. “You got the scent?”

 

“Yeah, I got a scent-”

 

“Let’s go!” 

 

“Wait, I- I have to track it- hey!” 

 

Hongjoong isn’t listening. The allure of sweet, sweet credits rolling into his account is way too arresting to let him think of anything else as he runs in an indiscriminate direction. Heavy footsteps follow, hunks of discarded machinery and junk parts falling aside in their wake.

 

“Hey! Hongjoong I- Wait!” The sound of Yunho behind him halts. “Wait- wait- wait- I… I think I’m actually getting it.”

 

Hongjoong halts, and he turns around. Yunho’s a few paces behind him, lips pressed together in concentration as he tries to take in as much of the dusty, dry air as possible. Joong quiets down - like that’ll somehow help Yunho smell better. 

 

“Over here,” Yunho mutters, pacing ahead of Hongjoong. Hongjoong claps with joy and follows eagerly. The two carefully navigate the base of the trash mountains, stepping between dangerously sharp scrap and little bits and bobs that could easily trip them. Yunho’s officially in concentration mode. He’s found his trail, and he’s following it determinedly. 

 

The two pass between heaps of thermal regulation transistors and radiation negators. Scraggly antennae and tangled cable housings stick out in every which way. A few of the piles are stacked so high in such a way that they look liable to topple over at the slightest inclination. Even though most of the parts that make them up are heavier than a house, something about them seems so delicate. Nobody ever said a junker’s line of work was risk-free, that’s for sure.

 

Yunho stops after a few minutes, standing in place to survey the area. All Hongjoong can really do to help is stay out of his way and hope he doesn’t smell too strong. It’s sorta weird to see Yunho do his thing, he’s decided. It looks so ordinary - he looks so ordinary. Half the time people think his tail is fake. They have some pretty good ones now. Still, as unremarkable as it seems, Yunho’s sense of smell is no joke. Hopefully, it’ll help them score this time.

 

“This way,” Yunho leads Hongjoong around the base of a heap. There seems to be lots of engine parts around the base: carburetors, coolant pumps, stabilizers and air circulation tubing. The humecanis finally stops at a pile and hunches over, sniffing furiously. A drop of sweat drops down Hongjoong’s nape as if in anticipation and not from the sweltering heat. Carefully, Yunho climbs the pile a little bit - that’s when he starts digging. 

 

“Lemme help you,” Hongjoong says, joining the other. Together they toss aside rusted siding and blown out heat lenses until finally, in the middle of the dusty, forsaken rubble appears a familiar splotch of purple. “Score!” Hongjoong explains. He pulls in Yunho for a one-armed hug, patting him on the back enthusiastically. “Yunho, you’re the best!”

 

“I know I am, but it means so much to hear it from you,” The other jokes back. He reaches into the little hole they’d made to grab the battery. With a hearty yank it… Doesn’t budge. “Shit,” Yunho curses.

 

“Huh- What is it?” Hongjoong squints at the battery. “It looks fine…”

 

“No, it’s not that it’s just- It’s a little… Stuck is all,” Yunho grits his teeth, reorienting his grip on the thing. He tries again.

 

No dice.

 

“Here, let me try,” Hongjoong says. Being completely honest with himself, he knows damn well he’s not as strong as Yunho. He’s just a human, and not a really buff one, either. Of course, that doesn’t mean he’s a quitter. Hongjoong hopes that maybe Yunho loosened it up enough, and maybe his smaller hands could somehow get a more secure grip on the thing. He reaches into the hole and tries to pull out the battery more slowly. “Crap it’s- It’s definitely, um-” Hongjoong tries not to sound as winded as he feels, “-um in there.”

 

“Maybe if we both get a grip,” Yunho posits. Hongjoong nods in agreement, and the two each do their best to wrap their hands around the damned thing. It’s not much bigger than a can of soda, so it’s sort of awkward, but it doesn’t stop them from giving it their all.

 

Joong proposes, “Okay, I’ll count down, and we can give it like a big pull.”

 

“Good idea,” The other agrees.

 

“Okay. Three… Two… One!” On Hongjoong’s command, the both grip the cell to the best of their ability and give it a pull.

 

Still nothing.

 

Hongjoong is painfully aware of just how many layers he’s wearing at the moment. It’s all for protective purposes - space junk isn’t exactly the cleanest or safest stuff to work with. Regardless, the leader wishes he wasn’t as cautious in that instant.

 

“Let’s go again,” He says. The pair get ready, and Hongjoong counts down again, “Three… Two… One!”

 

_ “Clunk.” _

 

“Oh!” “Oh crap-” The two exchange wide-eyed glances.

 

It moved. Not a lot, but they both heard it, and they could feel it slacken ever so slightly.

 

“Again?” Yunho asks.

 

Hongjoong nods, “Again. Three… Two… One!” The pull again, and this time it slides out even more.

 

_ “Clunk.” “Clank!” “Shink-” _

 

“Nice,” Yunho grins, “It’s almost halfway there.”

 

“Ugh, I can taste the hot dinner already,” Hongjoong says. He nearly feels drool dribble down his chin, but then he realizes it’s just sweat. “I think one more good one and we got this. Ready?”

 

“You sure we shouldn’t take it slower? Some of those sounds are kinda worrying,” The humecanis responds with pursed lips.

 

“What? What’re you talking about? I didn’t hear anything. Not everyone has supersonic dog hearing like you, you know.”

 

“Supersonic?” Yunho laughs, “Okay, whatever you say boss.”

 

“It’s probably the wind picking up something in the distance. There’s tons of crap here. Who knows what’s blowing around in the wind. Come on, you ready?”

 

“Yup.”

 

“Okay,” Hongjoong takes a deep breath, “Three… Two… One!” Every muscle in his body strains to pull out that one, tiny fuel cell. Yunho seems to be in the same boat, and they both grunt with exertion as the two of them labor to pull out one tiny fuel cell. 

 

“Shink!”

 

Suddenly, the fuel cell slides free. With all of the resistance gone, the two of them fly in the opposite direction, practically tumbling down the craggly hill of trash. Hongjoong loses his footing, and for a second his life flashes before his eyes, but a hand shoots out and grabs a fistful of his shirt before his face makes nice with the chewed up jet turbines below.

 

“Thanks,” Hongjoong says breathlessly. Yunho pulls him on to relatively even footing, a satisfied smile on his face.

 

“You’re welcome,” He replies. In the hand that wasn’t saving his friend’s life is a half-full fuel cell. Jackpot. “Man, that could’ve been bad.”

 

“No kidding,” Hongjoong lets out the breath that’d gotten caught in his throat. As the two plod down the heap back toward the ship, happy fantasies of a shower already fill his head. “Seriously, though. You really came through, Yunho. Drinks on me tonight!”

 

“You act like we don’t share everything,” Yunho chuckles.

 

“Hey man, we split it evenly in half!”

 

“Does it make that much of a difference when there’s only two of us anyways?” 

 

“Thank god it’s only two of us. I don’t think we could even afford a pet fi…” The humecanis trails off.

 

“Yunho?” Hongjoong eyes the other curiously. One second he was chatting happily, the next he’s frozen in place, brows furrowed like he’s thinking about something.

 

“What’s that rumbling?” He asks suddenly.

 

“That what?” Hongjoong responds.

 

“That- That rumbling. What is that?” Concern slowly starts seeping into Yunho’s tone.

 

“What rumbling? I don’t hear any-”

 

_ “Bbbrrbrbbrbbrbrbr…” _ As if on cue, a soft groan rumbles through the air. It’s coming from behind them. Both Hongjoong and Yunho turn around at the same time, looking for the source.

 

_ “Bbbbrbrbbrbrbrb…” “Creaaaaaak!” “Clunk. Clunk.” “Craack.” _

 

Hongjoong’s eyes blow wide open. Slowly, he turns around.

 

_ “BbbbbBBbBbbRRrRRbBBBRbrBRBrbbrbRBB…” “Creaaak-“ “Clang!” “Bang!” _

 

“Oh, no,” Yunho‘s voice drops. His blond, curled tail sinks beneath his legs, and he steps back. Hongjoong’s eyes follow the other’s, and he shrinks back.

 

_ “Bang! Bang!” “BrbbrbrbrbrbrbrbBBRBRBRBBRR-!” “Creak!” “Clang!” “Skreeee-“ _

 

It’s the pile they’d just stepped off of. The one that they’d gotten their battery from. The one looming ominously right behind them. Hongjoong had heard of junkslides before. What a terrible way to go, he’d always thought. Buried under the very stuff they’d dedicated their life to scavenging. In a way, it’s apt, a fitting fate for the scraps of mankind to reside with husks of formerly functioning machinery. Hongjoong always knew his job wasn’t exactly risk free, but hearing the massive scrap heap whine and belch makes that passing thought turn into a reality.

 

Yunho mutters,“You don’t think we-“

 

“When we took out the battery…” Hongjoong’s thought idly passes his own lips.

 

“And then it…” The two stand together in awe for a moment. It’s like gazing upon a tsunami as it’s cresting right before drowning everyone beneath it.

 

_“BBBBRBRBRBBRBRBRBBRBRBBR-“ “CREAAK!” “BANG!” “SKREEEE-“ “BANG!” “CLANG- CLANG- CLANG!”_

 

Pieces and parts start jostling around until the entire mass is vibrating. It’s terrifying and menacing, watching the space garbage animate like a vengeful corpse. The pile begins to shake violently, and tiny pieces start flying off one by one - a small cable port here, a cybernetic eyeball there.

 

“Run,” Hongjoong tells Yunho, though his eyes are still glued on the heap of junk. Yunho doesn’t move, so the leader of the two says it again, “Run! Yunho,  _ run _ !” Finally, Yunho gets it, and Hongjoong’s right behind him. No sooner than the two make a break for it does the heap start purging bigger chunks of debris.

 

Running across scrap is neither easy nor advisable. The pair frantically hop onto whatever relatively solid footing they can find. Panic grips Hongjoong’s heart in a vice, pulling it closer and closer to the ground with each passing second. Even more harrowing than the descent of his heart into the ground is that of his body. Hongjoong looks down with dread and realizes, they’re slipping. The ground beneath them isn’t ground at all, it’s scrap.

 

It’s all scrap.

 

And it’s all sliding, going down into god knows what depths spell out the true bottom of the junk yard. 

 

_ “CRACK!” “Clang.” “Skree- skree-!” _

 

Horrific sounds of metal scraping and crashing onto the ground thunder left and right. It’s almost loud enough to drown out the pounding of Hongjoong’s nerve-stricken heart in his chest.

 

_ “Skreee-!” “CRASH! CRAAASH!” _

 

“Shit,” Hongjoong hisses, “Shit, shit, shit, shit, shi-“ His last curse is cut off as the ground - well, less ground more piles of junk - gives way beneath him. “Th- The ground, it’s-!”

 

Once again, the strong humecanis at his side is his savior. 

 

Yunho lunges toward Hongjoong, grabbing his forearm and yanking him back onto (somewhat) solid “ground”, “A-are you okay? This is insane!” He has to yell to be heard over the din of parts crashing to the ground.

 

“Talk later, run now!” Hongjoong shouts frantically. The two, still linked by Yunho’s gripped, rush in the opposite direction of the slide. Every time they step forward, the junk beneath them trembles until it breaks off like splintered shards of glass.

 

“We’re not getting anywhere,” Yunho hollers to the human, eyes darting around in search of an escape route.

 

“It’s like, it’s like the- the-“ Hongjoong looks down, and he’s stopped in his tracks. For an instant, he completely stops moving. All he can do is stare. Watch as the vast piles of scrapped machinery disappear. They crumble and fall, consumed  by the ground itself, falling into what appears to be nothingness. It’s like the shitty Earth itself had given up on supporting the immense weight of waste above it.

 

“Oh, god, it’s caving in,” The human finally mutters. Yunho’s stopped in his tracks, too. He joins Hongjoong in gawking, and a gasp drops from his mouth.

 

It’s like a massive funnel, and it’s all going down. Everything. Every little bit and bob that had been tossed there to be forgotten heads down into that great black nothingness. Hongjoong can’t help thinking: soon, they will be too.

 

_ “BBRBRBBRBRBRBRBBRR-!” “BOOM!” “Clang!””Clink. Clink-clink-clink-“ “CRAAASH!” _

 

The noises grow even louder and bigger in number, and the incline on which they stand starts dipping.

 

“Yunho,” Hongjoong says, “We gotta go- we gotta go!” He urges his companion to move, not caring how futile it seems. 

 

“Right, right!” Yunho continues again, one hand on Hongjoong while the other grips for anything within reach that can be used for a handhold. Together, the pair make a mad dash to climb up the pile of scrap supporting them until it’s less hill and more climbing wall. All beside them debris drops - left and right - sometimes even just barely grazing an ear or a shoulder. The worstr part is that they don’t even hear the sound of those things dropping. All they hear is the destruction being wrought around. Agonized wails echo out from the gnashing guts of the scrap. They’d never seemed as alive to Hongjoong as they did now, letting out their miserable final breaths.

 

_“BRBRBRBBRBRBRB-!” “CLANG!” “CRAAASH!” “SKKKRRREEEAAAAA-“ “Crash!” “Clang- clang-!”_

 

Hongjoong, heart nearly flying out of his chest, tries to focus on going up. Up and out, he tells himself, up and out. But, suddenly, up and out isn’t possible. A rusted sheet of ship paneling comes careening down toward them, headed directly for Yunho’s head.

 

_“Screeeeeeee-!”_

 

Hongjoong tries to warn the other,“Yunho, look out, above-!“

 

Yunho’s gaze shoots up, and his jaw drops, “Wh-“

 

_“CLAAANG!”_

 

He reflexively shields his head but in doing so loses his stability. The panel hits the humecanis square on the shoulder, and reeling from the hit, Yunho starts to drop.

 

“Yunho- No!” Hongjoong reaches out - it’s his turn to save the other, but he’s not as strong as Yunho is. The humecanis is heavy, and everything he tries to anchor onto rapidly comes tumbling down.

 

“Ff- Joong,” Yunho hisses, clearly not all there, “Lemme go…”

 

“Fuck that! You’re not going anywhere-“

 

“Joong-“ Yunho chokes out, “No time. Just lemme go. You need to-“

 

“Nope, nope, not letting you go, I am not- fuck,” Everything’s slipping away too fast. The rusted stuff practically turns to dust in Hongjoong’s hand. “No, no, no, we are getting out of this! We are getting out of-“ 

 

A dark shadow draws Hongjoong’s attention upward. His body stops again.

 

It’s not just one rogue intake valve or thermal cell. It’s everything. 

 

Just like a tidal wave about to drown the masses, he thinks.

 

The junk eclipses the sweltering hot sun, and oh, how Hongjoong wishes he could see the burning bastard again. But he can’t. Numbing, nihilistic dread tugs him down, down, down. 

 

At some point, he lets go.

 

It’s not like it matters. Nothing matters anymore.

 

He’s going down, just like everything else is. An apt ending for a junker, just like he’d always thought. He didn’t think it’d come so soon, though.

 

Realizing how futile it is, seeing all those castaway things descend upon him, Hongjoong thinks for a second that maybe this is a fitting end for him. He’s not too different from all of that stuff careening down toward the depths of the shitty planet.

 

When he releases his grip, he hears yelling and the sound of more mechanical groaning. The last thing he remembers is being in freefall and holding onto Yunho for dear life. Soon, everything goes black.

 

* * *

 

“...Joong?” A voice so soft it’s almost a whimper calls out.

 

“Mn…”

 

“Hongjoong?” The voice calls again.

 

Hongjoong stirs slightly. If he thought he was in pain before, he was wrong. This is pain. Everything hurts. Aches both dull and sharp knock at his joints, resonating into his bones. He winces as he catalogues the sensations. Toes? Moving. Check. Fingers and arms? Still there. Legs? Sore, but there’s two of them. Good. 

 

“Yu… nho…?” Hongjong squeaks out. It feels like someone took sand paper to the inside of his throat. He supposes he should be glad he can still talk.

 

“Shit- thank god,” The humecanis’s voice drips relief. 

 

“Are you… Mnn- You okay?” Hongjoong takes a minute to summon the strength to sit up. A wave of agony washes over his body as he makes the effortful move to be upright. Blinking his eyes open slowly, the obscure shapes in his vision start to materialize to things and - thank god - a person who appears to be in one piece.

 

“Think my shoulder’s messed up, but,” Yunho looks down at himself, “Everything’s here.”

 

“Oof- Yeah, same here,” Hongjoong replies. He tries to fill his lungs, but the sheer amount of dust that the junkslide kicked up makes him hack and cough instead. “So, wait. We’re alive?”

 

“Somehow, yeah.”

 

“Well I’ll be…” The human tries to discern their surroundings. To the left: junk. To the right: junk. Towering up above them: more stacks of junk. The only thing really different from before is how dark it is. Only a few slivers of light trickle down to where they are from up above. “Do you remember what happened?”

 

“Not after we got caught in the scrap avalanche, no,” Yunho replies from his own perch on the ground next to Yunho. Ground. Solid ground. Now that’s different. “Where do you think we are?”

 

Hongjoong looks beneath them again. He grips at the floor beneath them: it’s dirt, mostly. Compact at that. Probably sitting on top of a few layers of sedimentary rock. He doesn’t smell or see anything resembling greenery. If he had to guess, they’d just found their way onto the genuine ground- the actual base of this Earth, not the one formed by layers of rusted metal covered in dust storms. Little slivers of light trickle down from up above. That must be the surface, Hongjoong thinks.

 

“If I had to guess, I’d say we’re on the planet - the real planet,” Hongjoong replies after his observation. “By the looks of it, what we were standing on before that we  _ thought _ was ground was, well, just more stuff. Covered in enough packed dirt to convince us otherwise, I guess.”

 

“Damn,” Yunho sighs. “So up there-“ He nods up to the light, “That’s the surface?”

 

“Seems like that’s where we came from, yeah,” Hongjoong purses his lips. “It doesn’t look impossible to climb back up there and get to the ship…”

 

“Ugh,” The humecanis cringes at the thought of more climbing. Joong hardly blames him. “We don’t have a choice, do we?”

 

“Nope. But… Let’s just… Let’s just take a minute.”

 

“Or ten,” Yunho proposes.

 

“Or ten. Ten is good,” Hongjoong agrees.

 

The surge of electric panic that had occupied his body still persists. Even in its dulled state, it swims beneath his skin, anxiety needling at his nerves. Of all the thoughts in his head, the one at the forefront of his mind is:

 

How the hell did we live?

 

After taking the aforementioned ten minutes (or something within that realm), Hongjoong tests his limbs more boldly. He cocks his neck to each side and bends his knees to hug them close. Ouch. It still hurts. The smell of rust, dirt, and mold fills his nostrils. At the very least, it’s not as hot in the weird subterrain they’d ended up in. That’s one consolation he can take.

 

Getting a better sense of his bearings, Hongjoong looks around again. There’s stuff everywhere, obviously, but looking closer, some of it looks old. Really old. The two managed to land themselves in something akin to a fossil site.

 

“Have you ever seen one of those in your life?” Hongjoong asks all of a sudden. Yunho blinks confusedly before following the extended finger of his partner.

 

“Is that a… A propeller?” Yunho asks.

 

“That what those are called?” Hongjoong squints at the giant pinwheel looking thing. He’d only seen it in period films and history books. “Huh.” He grunts.

 

Scanning the rest of the area, he sees more and more borderline ancient stuff. Centuries old jet engines, tiny batteries and prototypical communicator HUDs. There’s rudimentary landing gear and old docking consoles. It’s part dump, part museum.

 

Yunho’s the first one to get up. He makes a face - probably due to the pain, and Hongjoong watches the humecanis as he lumbers toward a nearby pile. Cautiously, he reaches out and picks something up.

 

“Whoa…” He coos, turning the strange, small device in his hand curiously. Hongjoong finally gets on his own feet, every one of his limbs protesting with pain. He trudges over to Yunho to see what the hell the humecanis just picked up.

 

He starts to ask,“Is that a-“

 

_ “Click.” “Snap!” _

 

Blinding light dazzles Hongjoong for a second, and all he can see is stars. The human practically wipes out, stumbling back from the shock of it.

 

“Oh-Oh god- That’s bright,” Hongjoong hisses, rubbing his eyes.

 

“S-sorry,” Yunho says sheepishly. 

 

When his vision clears, Joong is face to face with an ancient camera.

 

_ “Whirrrr…” _ A little noise comes out of the thing, and in light of recent events, Hongjoong is more than a little jumpy. He prepares himself for the tiny thing to combust but instead sees something… Slide out of it? Yunho, just as baffled, leans in and sniffs the rectangle thing that had just gotten spit out by the old contraption.

 

“Aw,” Yunho pouts when he takes out the strange, filmy paper thing. “I guess it’s broken.”

 

“That camera’s gotta be, like, a thousand years old,” Hongjoong says. The hunky, clunky thing looks nothing like the cameras of present. Joong can’t imagine lugging a little box around all the time just to print instant pictures. 

 

“Wait- wait- look!” Yunho gasps. Hongjoong’s eyes shoot to the little film rectangle again and, shockingly, it actually starts to develop. Though faded, he can see the vague outlines start to take shape: his scrunched nose and squinted eyes, the grimace of shock and irritation on his face.

 

“No way,” The human murmurs. “You think we can make a few bucks off of this? I know it’s old, but collectors would-“

 

“Ah- ah- ah!” The other holds up his hand and cradles the thing protectively, “ _ I _ found the ancient camera, and I’m keeping it.”

 

Hongjoong chuckles - he can’t argue with the tried and true doctrine of “finders, keepers”, “Alright, alright. Though you do realize that it’ll be impossible to find paper for that thing - or whatever they called it - right?”

 

“Don’t care,” Yunho singsongs, happily sliding the device into the massive pocket of his long jacket.

 

“Glad you found a fun souvenir. No we can always remember the horrific, possibly life-threatening catastrophe that we unleashed.”

 

“Once we’re positive we haven’t broken any ribs, we’ll probably look back and laugh at this.”

 

“Alright,” Hongjoong laughs. Typical Yunho. Bright and sunny, even when they’re practically buried under a mountain of crap. “As fun as it’d be to loot this place, we should probably start our trip back to the ship… I wonder how much stuff shifted around above. I hope it’s okay.”

 

“Boo,” Yunho whines, “That’s a big climb.”

 

Damn right it is. Hongjoong has to crane his neck just to see to the top. At least he can see that there is a way out - the junk mountain is more like a cliff, eventually levelling off to the high ground above. Thank god, Joong thinks. He’s not about to wait around and hope for rescue. He has a feeling their skeletons would turn to dust before that happened.

 

“We have to make sure our ship’s alright,” Hongjoong responds just as much to encourage himself as the other. “You know how it is-“

 

“Yeah, yeah. Too stiff a breeze and the thing’ll break down.”

 

“Exactly, and we got a pretty good haul. Gotta make sure the thing’s at least somewhat running so we get back.”

 

“Yes, sir,” Yunho starts dragging his feet toward the nearest junk heap. His tail sags a little as he slowly starts climbing.

 

Hongjoong heaves a sigh - it’s gonna be a long way up. He scans the area again, more out of habit than anything else. It’s the way of the junker-jobber: always be aware of your surroundings. He wasn’t really looking for anything per se, but something catches his eye regardless. 

 

He pauses.

 

It’s a flash, just the tiniest glint of blue light.

 

That doesn’t make sense. There’s barely any light for something shiny to catch down there, let alone something buried at the base of a massive pile. Hongjoong’s feet carry him toward the little twinkle before he can really stop himself. Just peeking out from the very bottom of a nearby heap, the little speck of light shines through.

 

“Wh- Hey, you coming or not?” Yunho’s voice calls down from further up the pile.

 

“Yeah, just a sec,” Hongjoong replies, eyes still on the light. “I think I see something.”

 

“I thought you said we were done looting.”

 

“I know, I know, but just- just a sec,” Hongjoong kneels down carefully sweeping aside the scrap covering the light’s source. “This thing looks like it’s on.”

 

“What is it?” Yunho asks, the sound of his footsteps ascending the metal pile stops.

 

“I dunno, it looks like…” The human cautiously uncovers it - he’s not real keen on inciting another junkslide. He gingerly pulls away a pile of scraggly wire and old radiator fuses until finally unearthing a…

 

A thing.

 

It’s a dome of sorts, the size of a dinner plate more or less. The entire thing’s covered in a thick coating of dust, save for the tiny speck through which its light shines. Hongjoong feels around the edge. It’s jagged, and there seem to be hunks missing.

 

Yet it still works.

 

Hongjoong wipes his sleeve across the surface of the strange object. At first all it manages to do is spread around the dust more, but after a few more vigorous swipes, he starts to see progress.

 

“What is it?” Yunho asks again, this time much more curiously.

 

“I… I still don’t know,” Hongjoong focuses intently on wiping away layer after layer of dust. He wonders how long it’s been there? Decades? Centuries?

 

More and more light escapes through the dome’s surface with each layer of dirt removed.

 

“It looks like… Glass?” Hongjoong observes. He can vaguely make out some sort of projection inside the dome. They’re splotches to him, hazy little spatterings of light, but judging by their size and arrangement, he infers that they’re symbols. Letters maybe? Numbers? There’s a more little lines of light - simply arranged around the diameter of the dome in various sizes. “There’s… Something inside of it, too. Like writing or something. Maybe it’s decoration? Wall art?”

 

“And it still works? What the hell kind of power source does it have?” Intrigue oozes from Yunho’s tone.

 

Hongjoong turns it over in his hands. The bottom side is just as dusty, and a few more little bits and pieces seem to be missing. However, in the dim light, he notices little nooks and crannies on the brassy surface of the dome’s base. Thoughtlessly, he swipes his hand across the thing, and his eyes widen.

 

Without thought, Joong reads the finely engraved script aloud:

 

“Say... My... Name...” He mutters.

 

“Kim Hongjoong?” Yunho blurts out, confused.

 

_ “Whoosh!” “Shh-shh-shh-zzt-!” _

 

Hongjoong’s heart practically leaps out through his mouth as he flinches from the dome’s sudden noise. He’d moved so suddenly that he has to fumble to stop from dropping the thing. Static crackles and pops, and light brighter than before floods out from the dirty glass apparatus. Turning it back over carefully, Hongjoong gasps as he sees the new form taken by the light.

 

“Holy shit,” Yunho says.

 

Hongjoong can’t even speak. All he can do is gawk, mouth ajar and eyes wide. Even the automatic process of breathing is stunted, his breaths shaky and constricted.

 

A cloudy blue projection glows above the strange thing. The image is noisy and wavers, flickering constantly. Glitchy stars jump in and out of view - a small corner of the universe, no doubt - and among them a single point flashes like a beacon. Next to the blinking pinpoint, a set of coordinates blips in and out. The numbers and letters scramble persistently, never quite staying the same for more than half a second.

 

It’s a map.

 

The strange device Hongjoong had found is  _ a map _ .

 

The sensation that crashes over Hongjoong like a tidal wave is difficult to describe. His first inclination is to think: “overwhelming”. It washes over him quickly like a rush, a swell of adrenaline violently surging through his veins like his life is threatened. But at the same time, he’s paralyzed. He feels borderline manic yet he can’t move. He’s stuck, frozen like the indescribable feeling coming over him is an incapacitating venom.

 

Emotions swell and toil in his chest like rapidfire: deja vu, anxiety, excitement and terror. Why? He wonders. Why do I feel this way?

 

“Is that a- a map?” Yunho asks.

 

“No, Yunho,” Hongjoong shakes his head. His voice is small, barely there. Speaking is a fight, but he squeezes the words out willfully regardless.

 

Finally tearing his eyes away from the projection above the thing, he looks Yunho in the eye and tells him:

 

“It’s a Compass.”

 

* * *

 

Hongjoong gently polishes the surface glassy of the dome with a (relatively) clean rag. Every part of his body hurts, aching from the agonizing climb and arduous trip back to their ship. Even keeping his eyes open feels like labor. The blazing sun had finally begun its descent beneath the horizon, and only a few stubborn slivers of crimson sunlight remain.

 

When the two had finally returned to the ship, they loaded up before playing rock paper scissors to see who showers first. Yunho won which, for once, Hongjoong felt cool with. His mind had been on one thing and one thing only for the entire trip back:

 

The Compass.

 

He doesn’t know how he knows, but he knows that’s what it is. It  _ has  _ to be. Hongjoong can’t explain the visceral, latent knowledge of what the device is - all he can do is accept it. And accept he does.

 

After cleaning away layer after layer of dirt, dust, and grime, he can make out more of the device’s details. He’d never seen anything like it before in his life.

 

The brassy casing is covered in little engraved patterns, lines twirling around its contours intricately. Various inscriptions are present throughout ranging from numbers to symbols to words in languages Hongjoong is pretty sure nobody’s spoken for millenia. There are little chunks missing here and there, but the breaks are clean, almost as if the thing had been modular. Looking at all the little nooks and crannies, Hongjoong is almost certain some of the exposed bits are docks and ports for things. It’s both fascinating and frustrating - he’d never seen ports that looked even remotely like those on the compass. There’s a few little impressions and slots, and he wonders what goes in there. Microchips? Cards? Some even look like missing buttons. He doubts any tech he knows of will be able to integrate with it.

 

The inside of the glass dome is the biggest giveaway, though - the true indicator of what it is.

 

After polishing it until it shined, Hongjoong could see the genuine artifact inside, the reason for its name. In blue light, script letters mark the directions: north, south, east and west. Each corresponds with an angle, also marked, and tiny ticks mark each single degree from zero to three-sixty. The only thing it’s missing is - weirdly enough - any sort of needle.

 

The strange star map persistently flashes on and off, even as Joong cleans the thing, but it’s never long enough for him to discern the numbers and letters. 

 

“Your turn,” Yunho’s voice calls from behind Joong on the cramped bridge. 

 

“Mhm,” The human hears the other, but doesn’t really listen. He’s still tinkering with his Compass. He taps the glass and turns it over in his hands, like that’ll do anything. 

 

“You still trying to figure that thing out?” Yunho asks, hopping into the copilot seat next to Hongjoong. Joong finally acknowledges him, nodding to the now fresh, clean, wet-haired boy next to him. 

 

“Yeah. I can’t crack it, though. Looks like it’s missing some pieces, but… I dunno,” Hongjoong purses his lips. “Like the map and coordinates are there. I see it. I just can’t get this thing to keep it together for more than two seconds.” He frowns.

 

“Give it here,” Yunho says. Hongjoong reluctantly obliges, handing it over like it’s a swaddled child and not a hunk of brass and glass. The humecanis turns it over in his hands, too, glancing at the inscriptions, his breath fogging the glass. He fingers some of the little holes and missing hunks as he studies the thing from every angle.

 

Taking a deep breath, Yunho finds a particularly big opening on one of the sides and, all of a sudden, blows.

 

“Wh- What the hell are you doing?!” Hongjoong asks panickedly, ready to snatch the Compass back from the other.

 

“I’m blowing on it. What does it look like I’m doing?”

 

“Wh- Why?! You could contaminate it or something. Mess it u- stop it!”

 

“Mmm, not that one,” Yunho mumbles to himself. Hongjoong makes an effort to grab the compass, but he’s easily thwarted by Yunho’s extended arm given that the humecanis has the size advantage. Yunho tries blowing into another port - no dice. All the while his human companion fusses from the captain’s seat, blathering about how he’s gonna mess it up.

 

_ “Click- click- whish!” _

 

A little noise comes from the compass’s glass dome, and without warning the map pops up again. Shockingly the picture is clearer than before. Hongjoong halts his arguing immediately.

 

“No way,” He gawks.

 

Yunho smirks, handing the (now somewhat functional) Compass back to him, “Told you it’d work.”

 

“I can’t believe you just blew on it, and it worked- Kind of.”

 

“You’re welcome. You should seriously get it together. I can’t be the brains  _ and  _ the beauty on this ship,” The puppy boy jokes.

 

“Ha ha,” Hongjoong rolls his eyes. “Well Mr. Brains and Beauty, if you’d be so kind as to put these coordinates into our nav. I wonder where this’ll lead us.”

 

“Got it,” Yunho nods and boots up the nav computer. Nicer ships can take voice commands in an instant, but they’re not in one of them. Their ship is neither “nicer” nor even “nice”. It just “is”. Consequently, it takes awhile for even simple things like a coordinate search to load.

 

After a couple of minutes of patient waiting, their nav PC finally pulls up the location and some information. No sooner than that did the Compass’s map projection switch off.

 

“Wh- What the hell?” Hongjoong scoffs. He tries blowing on it again to no avail. The map returns to its erratic, blinking state. He frowns, “At least we got the coordinates.”

 

“Yup,” Yunho responds absentmindedly as he reads the navigation’s analysis. He taps a button, and a projected heads-up display pops out from their nav computer’s console. Next to the blinking beacon pinpointed by their coordinates is a quick lookup of information. “Looks like it’s marked the KQ Space Colony not too far away.”

 

“Hm,” Joong grunts. He scans the Colony’s informative blurb with interest. “I think I’ve heard of that one. Never been, though, have we?”

  
  


“No, sir,” The younger one shakes his head. “It’s a good hub though. Massive, it seems. Twelve million people, about a hundred and sixteen thousand clicks volume… Seems pretty diverse, lots of activity. Just a short hop away, too. We could  _ definitely  _ unload our stuff here.”

 

A spark of excitement ignites in Hongjoong’s chest, and he nods in affirmation, “Perfect.” He feels the anticipation swell.

 

So that’s where the Compass wants me to go? He thinks.

 

Then that’s exactly where they’ll go.

 

He’s not sure what he’ll find, but a good feeling wraps around him as he watches the little marker flash on their navigation.

 

“Set our course for the KQ Colony, then,” Hongjoong commands.

 

“Yes, sir,” Yunho replies. He confirms the coordinates on the nav before starting the launch sequence. “I got this if you wanna take a shower.”

 

“Oh, yeah, guess I’m still covered in, like, everything,” Hongjoong looks down at himself, and his nose scrunches.

 

“I’ll try to keep her smooth so your clumsy ass doesn’t wipe out again.”

 

“I didn’t ‘wipe out’. I stumbled.”

 

“That’s not what your scream made it sound like.”

 

“I didn’t scream.”

 

“Sure you didn’t.”

 

“I did not.”

 

“Look- You’re lucky we can’t afford video surveillance, because if we could, you would be eating your words right now.”

 

“You know what,” The human playfully shoves his copilot.

 

“What?” Yunho shoves back. “What?” His tail starts wagging. Sometimes Hongjoong swears he can see puppy ears perk up - not that Yunho  _ has  _ them. 

 

“Just do the damn thing,” Hongjoong demands. He doesn’t feel like riling the puppy up. He doesn’t have the energy. Not after the day they’d had.

 

“You’re no fun,” Yunho pouts but follows the order. As impish as he is, he’s a loyal, obedient companion, and Joong is more thankful for that now than ever.

 

“Selling things for money and using said money to buy food is fun!” Hongjoong calls behind himself as he lumbers toward the shower stall. With each step he takes, the electricity beneath his skin diminishes. The adrenaline that had carried him up to that point drains out of him quickly, and he’s practically sleepwalking by the time he gets to the shower stall. With exhaustion stripping away the complexity of his thoughts, Hongjoong finds himself once again fixated on one thing:

 

Treasure.

 

What is your treasure?

 

He still doesn’t really know, and his brain is too shot to really contemplate it. So he doesn’t. Instead, he lets the barely warm jets of water run over him, willing himself to stay conscious as he works up a nice lather.

 

The KQ Colony isn’t far. They’ll probably be there by the morning, from what the nav said. He wonders:

 

Is that where my Treasure is?

 

What lies in store, he doesn’t know. All he knows is the feeling of assurance that steadies him like a voice whispering in his head, “This is where you need to be.”  
  



	2. Chapter 2

Ships of every make, model, and class bob and weave around one another in the corridors of the KQ Colony. They move with the organized manner of chaos a school of fish does, each weaving betwixt one another in pursuit of their next destination. They only part for the massive train shuttles passing through, the length of which dwarf any Hongjoong had ever seen before. Vast green islands float among long stations and towering skyscrapers with tiny standalone huts and buildings peppered between. Billboards and ad ships blare jingles in every language imaginable as they paint the entire colony in a rainbow of colored light. It’s crowded, beautiful, insane, vibrant, and chaotic all at once.

 

Hongjoong and Yunho gape from the bridge as they carefully pass through. A few horns honk at them, and dozens of ships whip past them impatiently. Joong can’t help feeling resentful of them, but in all honesty he’s not sure if he’s mad at them passing or bitter that their ships can  _ actually  _ go faster than theirs.

 

It doesn’t matter much, because after hours of travel, they’re close to their first stop in KQ Colony: the Sou’East Bazaar. After doing some research, they chose the Sou’East since it seems to have everything from kitchenware to military-grade laser attachments. Hongjoong can spot it pretty easily as they close in to dock. The long strip of atmosphere enclosed land is covered with stalls, tents, and a few bigger buildings. Joong had read that they have a scrap yard, and he’s sure they can find someone to fill the batteries, too. 

 

They enter the atmosphere, slowly lowering the ship to an open docking spot. The vague, shifting shapes that they’d seen from the distance materialize into humanoids of all shapes, colors, and races, and the artificial sky field soon closes over them, encasing them in a beautiful, cloudless day. Their ship groans as the landing gear makes contact with the ground, and it jostles side to side before finally settling down.

 

Hongjoong and Yunho have officially arrived.

 

“Let’s make some money!” Yunho singsongs, hopping out of his seat. He doesn’t hesitate to run toward the exit ramp, eager to stretch out and breathe some (slightly) less processed air. Hongjoong chuckles to himself as he moves to follow.

 

For a second, he stops in his tracks.

 

Looking over his shoulder at the Compass, a tiny spike of worry spurs him. He can hear Yunho grabbing their hovercart, and cogs turn in his head.

 

* * *

 

“You’re really gonna carry that thing around with you?” Yunho asks, eyeing the sack slung over Hongjoong’s shoulder wearily.

 

“What if someone peeks inside the window and sees it? I’m not taking chances,” He says. “Anyways, we could find some missing parts - you never know.”

 

“Whatever,” Yunho shrugs. “Not my problem. Just remember, we need to leave with this-” He pats the hovercart he’s pushing, “-emptier than what we came with.”

 

“You’re  _ really  _ gonna give me that lecture? Who’s the one who decided we needed to lug new ion drives back to the ship last time we had an outing?”

 

“But we  _ did  _ need new ion drives!”

 

“What we need is a new ship.”

 

“Fair point. When one of us marries royalty or finds a planet made of luzidium, we’ll be right on that.”

 

“That’s the spirit,” Joong chuckles.

 

The two make their way through the crowded bazaar slowly - mostly because they’re taking everything in. Typically, they find themselves on outer planets - small Earths with more rudimentary infrastructure or Galactic Coalition outposts with primarily military population. It’s been awhile since they’d encountered such a veritable mix of, well, everything. People, wares,  _ smells _ .

 

Reptilians haggle with martians over shield mods in one tent while humans and atlans sip coffee from a stall across the thoroughfare. Companion robots walk alongside their humanoids, hauling carts and bags full of the spoils of their day. They wear everything from rich, luminous robes to torn jeans and weathered trench coats. Hongjoong likes places like this - places so chock full of people from everywhere that he doesn’t feel out of place. Even with his hair longer in the back and all his piercings, nobody gives him a second glance.

 

Yunho, however, is not so fortunate.

 

He keeps his eyes cast down and quietly pushes the hovercart along. Hongjoong frowns. Yunho’s got sensitive hearing, and people are probably talking. In spite of how diverse big colonies like KQ are, a humecanis is still a sight to behold. Most hybrid humanoids don’t make it off of their planets, and when they do, it’s probably because they’re tethered to a human who wants them for the company. Joong hopes nobody thinks that’s what’s going on with Yunho and him.

 

When the two reach the scrapyard, the queue’s out the door. It moves fast, luckily, but people don’t exactly look pleased as they’re leaving. When it’s their turn, Joong finds out why. Their rates are ridiculous. Not two thousand credits for the entire lot? No, thank you. They head off to another one. And another one.

 

After three stops and a few talks with more frequent visitors, it dawns on them that the prices in KQ are really that bad. Figures, Joong thinks, big Colonies are more frugal than ever. In truth, he thinks he’d been optimistic anyways, but it feels bad after all they’d been through to come out with so much less.

 

“We could sell the Compass,” Yunho says as they leave the fourth scrapyard (this one they’d actually sold most of their load to). 

 

Hongjoong glares at Yunho, “No. Definitely not.” The two walk in no direction in particular. Save from the fuel cells, they’d gotten rid of anything. It’d been a long afternoon of price comparisons, and Hongjoong was starting to feel his stomach lining eat itself. “C’mon. We’ve got enough to have a decent meal, at least.”

 

“Food?” Yunho beams, completely shedding the dissatisfaction he’d expressed just seconds earlier. “Food?!” His tail wags.

 

“Yes. God, yes. Let’s go, um…” Hongjoong glances around before settling on a building in the distance. The place seems pretty happening, and the smell wafting from it makes his mouth water. More importantly: it’s a bar in a bazaar that sees lots of different traffic. It’s the ideal place for jobbers like themselves to pick up a new gig. Usually there’ll be bulletin consoles, and savvy people will even scout for workers in person. Given their disappointing earnings, they could use a little boost.

 

Chatter echoes loudly across the bustling waterhole. People toast, eat, and laugh. A few tables have people rolling dice or playing cards, others have people exchanging heated whispers and fervent glances. Hongjoong and Yunho are fine forgoing flights of fancy for food. Lots and lots of food. 

 

Yunho’s tail wags madly as he downs beef stew (“with actual beef this time!” as he said). Hongjoong’s a little more distracted, almost forgetting to touch his burger and fries. His mind’s teeming, overfull with thoughts of their next move, of the Treasure, and of this new, strange place. 

 

“...you think I can get another one of these? Hongjoong? Hongjoong?”

 

“Hm?” Joong wakes up from his daze. 

 

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Yunho smirks and flags a waiter over.

 

“What? What am I saying yes to? Wh- We are not ordering more food,” Joong kicks the other beneath the table.

 

“But you said we could,” Yunho whines.

 

“I didn’t say anything.”

 

“You’re right. You didn’t - because you haven’t said a word in, like, the past hour,” The humecanis pouts. Hongjoong opens his mouth to protest, but he’s interrupted by the arrival of a waiter.

 

“Yes, how can I help you?” The young man asks.

 

“U-Uhm, I’m sorry,” Hongjoong sputters, “He- He didn’t mean-“

 

“Get the man whatever he wants,” An older gentleman approaches their table, giving the waiter a genial smile. “It’s on my tab.”

 

Hongjoong and Yunho exchange puzzled looks. Do they know this man?

 

“Um… I think we’re gonna need a minute,” Hongjoong said. The waiter glances around confusedly before scuttling off. That leaves the two junkers alone with the strange man who’d suddenly entered their space. Yunho keeps his eyes on the table, and Hongjoong narrows his eyes at the fellow.

 

He seems to be floating around thirty, a few faint smile lines. Well groomed, too, but not over the top - just clean. He’s dressed nicely - a bit too nicely to be slumming it up in bazaar. His suit isn’t over the top rich, but it’s tailored nicely to his long body. So, Joong wonders, what’s a guy like that doing at a place called “Dark & Wild”? He looks neither dark nor wild.

 

“Can I help you?” The human asks forthrightly. He knows he shouldn’t be too unfriendly - who knows, maybe KQ people are just friendly. A suspicious feeling lingers regardless.

 

“Apologies,” The man graciously raises a hand, “I ought to have introduced myself first. My name is… Well, you can call me Mr. Jung if that’s alright with you. I understand that freelancers frequent this bazaar, and I wanted to talk business. May I sit down?”

 

Business. 

 

Now that’s a word, Hongjoong understands. He gestures to an empty spot beside them, and “Mr. Jun” steals an empty chair from a nearby table to sit. Yunho occasionally eyes Mr. Jung but doesn’t say anything. He’s fairly shy around most humans in spite of how sunny he is.

 

“Thank you,” The well kept gentleman graciously takes a seat. “I do mean what I said before - order whatever you want. It’s on me. Um- I assume I was correct then? You are freelancers?”

 

Freelancers is a nice word for it, Hongjoong thinks. Usually they’re “jobbers” or “junkers”. The less generous patrons of their profession might use plain old “grunt” or “packrat”. Some just call them “human garbage”, too. Freelancers, though, that makes it sound like they’re doing something prestigious like art or coding.

 

“That’s right,” Hongjoong answers with a nod. He wonders what a clean cut man like Mr. Jun wants with them - or any “freelancer” as tattered as them, really. 

 

Yunho finally manages to speak, “Can I get another bowl of-“

 

“Wait,” Hongjoong cuts him off. He’s not gonna take any of that man’s money before knowing what he wants. Yunho pouts and returns his eyes down to his almost spotless bowl of stew. “What kind of job did you have for a couple of freelancers like us?” He asks.

 

If Mr. Jung is put off by Hongjoong’s dubiousness, he doesn’t show it. Instead, he just flashes another charming, dimpled smile. His teeth are perfect and straight and white. He looks really out of place. Joong tries not to question it too much.

 

“I need a delivery,” Mr. Jung says. “Tomorrow morning, I have a shipment coming into a dock on the west side. Just a couple of small packages.”

 

“Does KQ not have a colony-wide courier?” Hongjoong asks.

 

Mr. Jung lets out a chuckle, “Have you ever used a national courier? And don’t get me started on the GC’s service, either. No,” He shakes his head, “I’ve found that private couriers do the job much better. I prefer my packages in one piece, unopened. Unfortunately, large scale couriers seem incapable of this.”

 

The man’s got a fair point. It’s been a long time since Hongjoong has been in one place long enough to get a package proper. But, when he lived back on his home planet, getting a package on time, undamaged, and at the proper address was like finding a unicorn.

 

“Am I allowed to inquire about the nature of what we’d be moving?” Hongjoong asks.

 

“It’s wine, actually,” Mr. Jung replies. He’s awfully smiley, Joong thinks. “Very fine, expensive wine mind you.”

 

“Ah,” Hongjoong nods - the pieces of the puzzle slot together neatly. Imported booze probably pings all sorts of little flags in the Galactic Coalition’s systems. Marking fancy imports as “personal” probably avoids any tariffs or customs expenses. At least, that’s his guess. He doesn’t actually knows the laws that well - just enough not to break them. “You’re a purveyor of fine spirits, then?”

 

“More of a collector, really,” Mr. Jung answers. “I’m particularly excited about these wines, so I wanted to assure it’s handled by few, capable hands. Mr… I’m sorry, I never caught your name.”

 

“Kim Hongjoong,” Joong introduces himself with a nod, “And this is my associate, Jeong Yunho,” He gestures to the quiet humecanis.

 

“Your associate,” Mr. Jung looks humored. “How sweet. I’ve never seen a humecanis in person- feli, yes. But canis… That’s a rarity. I couldn’t help noticing him across the room, actually. It’s why I approached you.”

 

“You have a thing for hybrids?” The human frowns.

 

“Wh- No- I- Please don’t take it like that. I don’t mean to say- I just thought you two looked interesting is all. I- I didn’t mean to offend you,” The man says pointedly to Yunho.

 

Yunho acknowledges him quietly, “It’s fine. I mean- I get what you mean.” Awkwardness hangs around the table in a thick fog, and he quickly tries to diffuse it by switching the subject. “So, um- What are your payment terms then?”

 

Mr. Jung seems delighted (seriously, he’s way too happy in Hongjoong’s opinion),“I’ll pay you twenty-five hundred credits. Thirty percent down and the other seventy upon delivery. All cash, of course.”

 

“And this shipment comes in tomorrow morning?” Hongjoong asks to clarify.

 

“That is correct. Two miniature containers - I’m sure they’ll easily fit in whatever vessel you operate. All details will be divulged - that is if you take it. So fellas, what do you say?”

 

Twenty-five hundred credits.

 

They could definitely use the money. The job seems easy, too. Hongjoong entertains the idea that maybe it’s just too good to be true. Mr. Jung seems a little too nice and polished for Hongjoong’s liking. It sort of sets his teeth on edge, but the money is good. It seems unlikely that they’ll run into trouble over wine. There’s always the possibility that it’s not wine - it could be drugs or counterfeit medicine or god knows what else - but asking questions doesn’t pay the bills. It  _ definitely _ doesn’t get their meals comp’d. Shady employers are a risk that jobbers have to take, and if Joong turned away every client that creeped him out, he’d have probably starved by now.

 

“Yunho, order whatever you want,” Hongjoong says, “It’s on him.”

 

Mr. Jun smiles, lifting his glass, “Cheers to a contract then.”

 

“I’ll drink to that.” “I’m having another beef bowl, then-“

 

_ “Clink!” _

 

It seems easy and standard, nothing new. Hongjoong’s already fantasizing about where they’ll be headed next. The Compass led them to the KQ Colony - why? There has to be a reason.

 

All they have to do is get this job out of the way, and then he can really hunt for Treasure.

 

* * *

__

“Bring her in- Gently now,” Hongjoong commands. It’s entirely too early for any reasonable human to be up in his opinion. But there they are, him and Yunho at a dock on the west side ushering in two containers of (alleged) fancy booze. Even though it’s probably five in the morning, they’re not the only ones there. Cranes loudly whirr and workers busily load and unload massive hovering containers into freight ships. Outside the glass separating the loading docks from the vacuum of space, the Colony’s prismatic lights beam as brightly as ever. Morning and night don’t seem to be different in KQ. There’s just as much noise and hustle at five in the morning as there is five at night.

 

Showing up at the cited drop off point reaffirms that fact.

 

The trip had been pretty quick, landing them at the delivery site shortly after six. What surprises the two isn’t how easy the trip was, but where it took them.

 

“Is this a club?” Yunho asks as he eases the ship onto the landing lot.

 

“Uh…” Hongjoong gawks. Bright neon lights strobe on top of the building, and even from inside their ship they can hear bass pounding from the place. The sign projection above the building displays a pretty implicit hologram as to what kind of activities go on in the establishment. Even stranger is the fact that it seems busy.

 

“You know what. Never mind. Less questions, more money, right?” Yunho posits.

 

“Uh. Right,” Hongjoong nods. All they have to do is to find Mr. Jun or his contact (listed as Rain with a picture on their brief). “Let’s, uh, let’s make this quick then.”

 

The quicker the better in his eyes. The faster they close out the job, the faster they can go back to sleep - and further investigate the Compass.

 

Hongjoong and Yunho stick close to one another, each with a container container in tow. The bouncer waves them to the back entrance, and that’s where they’re let in after being talked to through a slot in the door. It occurs to Hongjoong that a regular club probably wouldn’t make you verify your identity with a person talking through a tiny window. If anything, it’d be a retinal scan or auric signature map - but a person? He tries not to think of it.

 

“We’re supposed to touch base with a Mr. Jun or Rain,” Hongjoong tells the burly guard as he waves them in. 

 

“Down the hall, through the double doors. It’ll be the second door on the left,” The guard grunts. He then proceeds to whisper something into his wrist - a local transciever chip, probably. Embedded beneath the skin to utilize old-fashioned radio waves for low range, untraceable communication. The sight makes the human nervous.

 

Joong and Yunho nod affirmatively, keeping their eyes down as they head on through. The entire time, all Hongjoong can think is: in and out, in and out. That’s all they need to do. Get in. Drop things off. Collect payment and then leave. No matter how sketched out he is, he has to play his cool. Those are the thoughts running through his head like a news ticker as they follow the guard’s directions.

 

Hongjoong decides it’s best to knock when they get there. The door slides open before his third knock, and he’s greeted by a man who has more people draped on him than seems reasonable. It’s not Mr. Jun, which leaves one possibility.

 

“Um, Rain?” Hongjoong asks the man in the epicenter of it all. He’s got one arm slung around a woman and another around a man. Neither are wearing a lot of clothing - thankfully, the dim, colorful lights keep the majority of their anatomy obscured.

 

“You must be the delivery men - Hongjoong and Yunho,” The man greets the two genially. He looks similar to Mr. Jun - older and well groomed with a distinguished yet undeniably shady aura. He hops out of his seat, giving his companions a loving pat before stepping closer to his containers. “These are the goods, then?” He asks.

 

“Yes, sir,” Hongjoong replies. He usually does the talking. Yunho’s more of a doer, and, in this case, he’s doing his best not to ogle the half dozen naked people covered in glitter and sweat. “Two miniature containers of, uh, fine spirits.”

 

Rain lets out a laugh as he walks around the shipment. He punches a code into one of the container’s lock consoles, and it opens with a hiss. Hongjoong’s gut twists with worry. He doesn’t want to see what’s actually in the containers. That could incriminate him. He winces as the top of the container parts, and even though he tells himself not to look, he totally does. He and Yunho’s eyes widen as they come to realize that they’d actually been tasked with transporting two containers of…

 

Wine.

 

It’s actually wine.

 

Without meaning to, Hongjoong heaves a sigh of relief.

 

“Very good,” Rain says, sounding pleased. “Sorry, fellas. Just had to confirm the merchandise was all in order. Looks like we’re all good here so-“ He grabs a wad of paper credits from his jacket pocket, “-count it. Seventeen-fifty - your seventy percent.”

 

Hongjoong happily takes the wad, fanning it out and counting it with Yunho over his shoulder. The money’s legit, and the elation of a job well done hits Hongjoong.

 

“Thank you, sir,” Joong says when he’s done counting. “Oh- And give our regards to Mr. Jun.”

 

“Of course,” Rain responds with a smile. “Feel free to enjoy the place a bit before you go. Lemme ring the bartender, get you a drink for the road-“

 

“That’ll be fine,” Hongjoong says. “We really appreciate it, but we best be on our way.”

 

“Aw,” The older man coos, “That’s good. Wholesome.” He gives Hongjoong a pat on the shoulder and gestures to the door. “Safe travels, then.”

 

“You have a good night- er- day,” Hongjoong waves goodbye, and Yunho follows.

 

“Well, that was fun,” Yunho chirps. Bass shakes the hallway and reverberates from the floor into their feet. Loud yelling and shrill electronic beats echo into the hallway, and people rush through the double doors they’d come in from.

 

“These people sure do enjoy their mornings,” Hongjoong remarks as they’re practically run over by a few more people striding past.

 

“Aah-“ Yunho halts and grits his teeth. He grips his head in agony, leaning against a nearby wall. 

 

“Whoa- whoa- whoa- Yunho! What’s happening?!” Hongjoong stops dead in his tracks, immediately rushing to the other’s side.

 

“It’s just- Just loud,” The humecanis says, taking a few shaky breaths to steady himself.

 

“Yeah, it’s a club, buddy. We’ll get out of here-“

 

“No, it’s not that- I mean- it is, but- but-“

 

“Yunho, what is it?”

 

“Loud. My ears. People. Sirens.”

 

“Yeah it does kinda sound like sirens. C’mon let’s get out of here-“

 

“They’re coming,” Yunho says.

 

“Wh- Who’s coming?” Worry grips Hongjoong’s heart in a tight vice.

 

“The cops. I hear them-“ As Yunho says this, more and more people rush past them frantically.

 

“The cops?” It’s like the nerves that had taken hold of his heart decided to chuck it onto the ground. “Wh-“

 

“Police!” A loud voice bellows from beyond the double doors. “Police! Don’t move!”

 

Hongjoong doesn’t need anymore prompting. He snatches Yunho’s wrists and runs in the opposite direction of the shouting police. It’s more reflex than anything. They didn’t even do anything illegal - all they did was a job. A legal job. But, still, Hongjoong doesn’t trust the cops to get that. Guilt by association is real, and guys like him and Yunho don’t have anyone to bail them out.

 

The two run out of the back hallways and emerge into what probably functions as a dance floor. There’s definitely the makings of a decent club: a large dance floor, awesome DJ booth and sick AR visuals. The bar is long and behind it there’s probably hundreds of bottles. The pieces are there. Except, instead of dancing and drinking, people are running and screaming.

 

_ “Zzzt! Zzzt!” _

 

Yunho’s eyes blow wide open, and his tail drops between his legs, “Did that sound like a stun gun to you?”

 

Hongjoong knows he shouldn’t, but he glances over his shoulder. The unmistakable black uniforms of the Galactic Coalition’s police start flooding in through the back halls. Padded, squared shoulders and that starched, high standing collar. All in black with gleaming silver buttons and belted

 

That’s not good.

 

_ “Zzzzt!” _

 

Electric sparks ignite left and right, followed by the soft thud of bodies hitting the floor. Whatever they’re looking for - whatever this place is a cover for - it’s enough to warrant a full on raid.

 

Cries and screams ricochet off of the high ceiling of the club. GC officers start coming in from all angles - side doors, vents, maintenance tunnels. Bodies swarm to the one viable exit: the front door. Unfortunately, the front entrance is through a relatively narrow hallway. The bottleneck makes everyone back up, and people start fighting to escape the cops.

 

_ “Zzzt!” “Bang. Bang.” “Zzzt!” _

 

“Yunho don’t let go of me,” Hongjoong yells over the caterwaul. He takes hold of the other’s hand, squeezing it as tight as he can. The two try to swim through the ocean of bodies, but it gets tougher and tougher.

 

_ “Zzzt!” _ A laser passes right by Hongjoong’s ear. The heat just barely licks at his earlobe. It’s the sound that stops him in his tracks, though. The deafening, snap leaves a ringing in his ear that dulls everything else. 

 

Lights flash - some ignitions, some from the club’s own effects - and shouts encase the dark place in a veil of chaos. For a few moments, things seem to move in slow motion, and all Hongjoong can process is Yunho’s grip on his hand. 

 

In an instant, even that fades away.

 

Everything does.

 

Hongjoong registers pain. Searing pain. It hits him in the back and ripples through his entire body. His mouth opens, but he can’t scream. He can’t do anything.

 

He blacks out.

 

* * *

“...im… M… i… -ster k…?”

 

Throbbing and aching. That’s all he can feel. Faint whispers of agony radiate from his chest down to his limbs.

 

“K… i… m…?”

 

Syllables. Letters. Forming a word?

 

“-ister Kim?”

 

Kim… A name?

 

“Mister Kim?” The voice sounds unfamiliar and muffled - like he’s hearing it with cotton stuffed in his ears.

 

Slowly, lucidity pulls away the veil of haziness covering Hongjoong’s conscious. 

 

“He’s still not up?” One voice asks hushedly.

 

“No, sir. Maybe the shock delivered was a bit potent for his small frame. His accomplice is already getting his prints taken.”

 

Small frame? Hongjoong’s nose scrunches with irritation. His teeth hurt. His teeth hurt? He doesn’t know why his teeth hurt. He doesn’t know anything.

 

“Oh- I think he’s getting up.” “Mr. Kim?”

 

“Mn…” Hongjoong blinks his eyes open sluggishly. Light floods his vision and makes him flinch. Everything is blurry and bright.

 

“Mr. Kim?” A blurry figure asks. More and more of his surroundings come into focus. 

 

There’s two hazy silhouettes, and a… Thing in front of them. Furniture? A screen is projected to the side, but he sure as hell can’t read it. Eventually he sees two people in front of him - a couple of blackcoats. Galactic Coalition officers. Even though he’s right there, they carry on like he isn’t.

 

“Park, get his attributes down. Hair color, eye color, piercings… Looks like he’s got a few.” “Yes, sir.” “We’ll get his height and weight when he comes to. You said his accomplice is getting scanned?” “I took his preliminaries and filed it. He’s getting prepped for questioning, sir.” “Excellent work Officer Park.” “Thank you- Oh, by the way… How would you describe his… Hair?”

 

“Mnn,” Hongjoong tries to say something, but it’s more of a groan. The first and foremost question on his mind is:

 

What the hell is going on?

 

“Oh- He seems to be regaining consciousness. Mr. Kim?” “Sir, do you think ‘mullet’ is an appropriate moniker or ought I just call it… ‘Back hair’?” “Mullet is a colloquialism, go with back hair - it’s more descriptive.” “Back… Hair… Yes, sir.”

 

“Mnn- Wh…” Joong blinks more, and the swell of light starts dying down. The vague talking shapes transform sharpen from blurs into people. “Bah haih?” He tries to talk, but he feels like his mouth is full of sand. A faint, acrid taste stubbornly sticks to his tongue.

 

“Oh- He’s awake. Take notes on any strange behaviors.” “Yes, sir.”

 

“Mr. Kim,” The older of the two GC officers addresses Hongjoong directly for the first time. 

 

“Mmm?” Joong answers with a hum. He’s uncomfortable, sitting in a weird, hunched over position. However, when he tries to adjust, he realizes: he’s strapped to his chair. 

 

“I’m Chief Warrant Officer Kim Kibum, and this is my protege, Petty Officer Park Seonghwa. We’re officers of the Galactic Coalition’s naval branch - the GN - and we’ll be processing you.”

 

“Pro- wha?” 

 

The Warrant Officer, Kibum, cooly informs the other,“We’re going to have to ask you a few questions, but first-“ Suddenly, the metal bindings keeping Hongjoong in place open with a metallic “thunk” sound. “-stand up.”

 

Even though his throat is sore and his mouth dry, Joong protests,“Wha- What is going on-“

 

“I said, stand up,” The older officer demanded sternly.

 

“Why am I- Aa-ahh!” Mid-question, a sharp, stabbing pain in the wrists cuts Joong off. When he glances down, he sees cuffs on his wrists. A band in the middle of the metal shackles glows burning red - probably the apparatus that indicates whatever is hurting him is working.

 

“Always be firm and fast, Officer Park,” Kibum says. The younger one nods earnestly. Joong can’t help the look his face pulls - is this kid taking notes on how to harass an  _ innocent  _ person? “As I said before, Mr. Kim. Stand. Up. I urge you to cooperate.”

 

Hongjoong complies, discomfort running down his body. His wrists still sting from the weird burning device they’d use - a sensation he’s not eager to experience again. As he stands, the sliding door behind the officers opens. A couple of little droids zip in. No sooner than he’d gotten upright did one of them position itself right in front of him.

 

_ “Snap!” _

 

The little bot takes a picture - his mugshot, he guesses.

 

“Turn to the side,” Officer Kim Kibum instructs.

 

Once again, Joong complies, a grimace set on his face all the while. 

 

_ “Snap!” _

 

Another flash registers in his peripherals, and soon tiny robot number two is running a scanner beam up and down his body.

 

“Preliminary scan complete. All vitals within normal ranges,” The scanner bot regurgitates. With their jobs done, the pair of robots float on out through where they came.

 

“Alright, Mr. Kim,” The older officer says, “Now that you’re alert, we have a few questions for y-”

 

“Shiff.” The metal door behind them slides open yet again. This time, it’s not little assistant bots that zip in, but another person in uniform.

 

“Warrant Officer Kim?” The GC officer says. 

 

The older man furrows his brow as he acknowledges his apparent subordinate, “What is it, Wen? What is so important that you have to interrupt questioning?”

 

“I-I’m sorry sir. It’s about the accomplice - the dog. We need your clearance to access some files. There’s some discrepancies with his identity.”

 

“Hm?” Kibum’s expression shifts from irritation to interest. Hongjoong doesn’t like that. He doesn’t like that one bit. The petty officer had said something about “accomplice” - did he mean Yunho?

 

“Seonghwa,” The older officer says, “You’ve accompanied me enough, I trust you can handle this alone.” He nods toward Hongjoong. Hongjoong scowls.

 

“Y-yes, sir!” The younger officer nods earnestly. Teacher’s pet, Hongjoong thinks.  Officer Kibum follows the other blackcoat out of the door, leaving Hongjoong alone with Petty Officer Park Seonghwa.

 

With the big wig gone, Joong finally gets a good look at the younger officer. He’d ignored the guy before, but now he has to size him up a bit.

 

Park Seonghwa.

 

What a pretty name for a pretty man.

 

Not a single one of his platinum blond hairs is out of place. It’s perfectly parted to the side, showing a just a flash of forehead. He’s got crystal blue eyes and a perfect ski-slope like nose. His lips look pretty, pink, and unchapped - and Hongjoong wonders if the guy wears lip tint to work. Wrapped around his stately features is a distinguished jawline. His skin is clear, and his proportions are good. Hongjoong practically sees a halo surrounding the young man. He’s so perfect, it’s actually sickening. A broiling sensation of illness rises in Joong’s stomach, and it takes all his will not to physically recoil from what looks like some virtual reality avatar brought to life.

 

“Very well then,” Seonghwa mutters. He sits up primly and folds his hands on the desk in front of him. “As my superior is currently tied up, I’ll be the one in charge of your questioning for now. Why don’t you start by telling me a little about yourself.” He raises a perfectly plucked eyebrow inquisitively.

 

“A little about myself?” Hongjoong repeats back skeptically. “Well, my name is Kim Hongjoong. I’m twenty years old, and I’m a scorpio. I love long strolls under the starlight and poetry.” He smirks.

 

Officer Park tenses slightly but maintains a poker face, “That’s all good and well, but how about you start by telling me why you were at Ambustio Club this morning just after six?”

 

Hongjoong sighs. He’s always been a bit weary of law enforcement. Maybe it’s something about the junker trade or the way he grew up. No matter how many times the authorities try to impart the sentiment of “keeping order” and “trying to help everyone”, he just can’t buy it. In spite of that, he’s genuinely innocent and very confused. He decides to swallow his pride this one time. Maybe, just maybe if he’s honest, this Officer Park guy will actually help him. Nervously nibbling on his lower lip, Hongjoong talks.

 

“I was dropping some packages off at the club. Just a quick job is all.”

 

“I?” Seonghwa’s eyes narrow, “Don’t you mean  _ we _ ?”

 

“Excuse me?”

 

“We’ve linked you to a known accomplice - Jeong Yunho is his name?”

 

“O-oh,” Hongjoong’s fingers start fidgeting in his lap. Even though he  _ knows  _ Yunho’s in custody and  _ they  _ know the two are associates, it still makes Joong’s guts turn to involve the other. “Well-”

 

“We have security footage to confirm this. You’re not protecting your associate by denying this,” The Galactic Navy officer says cooly.

 

“Um, right. Well, then, yeah,” Joong grits his teeth and moves on. It makes his skin crawl, but cooperation is the best way to get through this stuff quicker, he figures. At least, he hopes it is. “We were dropping off some packages.”

 

“So you work for Ambustio?”

 

“What? No,” Hongjoong glares at the other. He sure likes jumping to conclusions. Then again, he could just be riling the arrested man on purpose. Joong tries to ignore the other’s accusatory tone and carries on,“It was a one-off job. Just a quick contract made the day prior. Yunho and I, we’re job- er- freelancers.” He clarifies.

 

“I see,” Seonghwa says. He taps something on the desk, and a projected HUD pops up. Hongjoong can’t see what it says from where he’s sitting, but he what he can see is the petty officer typing furiously. Joong wonders what the hell the other could possibly be typing. He’d said maybe four things total since waking up. “Can you please recount to me the events of your undertaking the job - from the point of contact to your arrest, that is?”

 

“Um, sure,” Hongjoong replies. “Well, yesterday evening Yunho and I had gone to the Sou’East Bazaar. We sold some scrap and went to a bar to catch a bite-”

 

“What was it called?”

 

“Hm?”

 

“The bar. The eating establishment that you patronized. What was it called?”

 

It seems like a nitpicky detail, but Hongjoong tries his best to remember regardless, “Um… It was… Something ‘Dark’. ‘Dark Horse’? ‘Dark and Wild’? Dark and- no wait, it was definitely ‘Dark and Wild’. It was, um, it was a saloon.”

 

“I see,” Seongwha nods, eyes fixed on Hongjoong while his fingers move furiously across the key input for his computer. “And this was your first point of contact for this job? You hadn’t arranged a meeting prior?”

 

“No, sir. We just went to get some food, and we were approached by the client.”

 

“And who exactly approached you, Mr. Kim?”

 

“I…” Hongjoong presses his lips together. “I can’t say. It’s a breach of my contract.”

 

“Oh? And do you have this contract on hand? Can you access it?” Seonghwa needles him.

 

“It was a verbal contract. Signed with a handshake,” Hongjoong says.

 

“Really?” The petty officer looks at his suspect in disbelief.

 

“Yes, really,” Hongjoong gets the feeling Park Seonghwa hasn’t encountered his type very often. If he has, it’s probably behind bars or in an interrogation room - much like the one he’s in now. “It’s not uncommon to make verbal contracts in my profession.”

 

Petty Officer Park laughs - actually laughs. It’s the breathy kind of laugh someone puffs out when they think they’ve heard something that’s clearly a lie. Hongjoong doesn’t appreciate it. He doesn’t appreciate it one bit, but he’s not the one with the gun and badge. He settles for giving the PO a dirty look.

 

“No paper trail. How convenient,” He says.

 

“People who use private couriers are really fond of the  _ private  _ part. Funny how that works.”

 

“People who use private couriers? Right, okay- I- Nevermind that. Just- just carry on, then. So, you were approached by a client for a… Delivery job you said?”

 

The flames of ire eating up Hongjoong’s insides calm down a bit, and he continues, “Yes. Straightforward and simple. We picked up the containers this morning and delivered them on site - Ambustio, that is. Got some money down and collected the rest when we got there. It was pretty simple. We were on our way out, and then… Well, you know the rest. Better than I do, probably. One second I’m heading toward the exit, the next I wake up here. Maybe you could fill in some blanks for me.”

 

“That won’t be necessary, Mr. Kim. I assure you once you and your animal friend-”

 

“Excuse you?” That hits a nerve.

 

“Your associate. Jeong Yunho. I thought we established that he-”

 

“He’s not an animal,” Hongjoong clenches his fists in his lap. Anger sears his gut and floats up to his chest. 

 

Seonghwa either can’t tell or doesn’t care how vexed the other is and dismisses his words nonchalantly, “Right. He’s people, I know. Semantics. What I meant to say was that details following the seizure of those on the scene is not relevant. It’s me asking the questions here. Not you.”

 

“Yes,  _ sir _ ,” The words say obedience, but the tone drips pure venom. Hongjoong tries not to let his mind stray to Yunho - the thought stresses him out too much. Is he okay? What’s going through his head? Are they treating him fairly?

 

“Very good,” Seonghwa replies (and Hongjoong swears he’s trying to be patronizing at this point). “Now, what is it exactly you were tasked with delivering on such short notice?”

 

“That’s none of your business,” Hongjoong answers defiantly. “Divulging that information is a-”

 

“Yes, a breach contract, of course,” Seongwha cuts him off. Those blue eyes of him have a chilling intensity more frigid than the vacuum of space itself. It makes Joong shudder a bit, but he tries to stand his ground - if only slightly. He doesn’t want to get in more trouble than he’s in, but damn does he want to see that smug, cool expression wiped off of Petty Officer Park Seonghwa’s face.

 

“Glad you were paying attention,” Hongjoong replies with a saccharine, satirical smile. Electric tensity crackles in the air between them.

 

“So, just so I understand, what you’re telling me is… You and Jeong Yunho were approached by a man - who you refuse to identify - to deliver two containers - the contents of which you refuse to identify because it would breach an alleged verbal contract. Is that correct?”

 

“Yes. Yes it is.”

 

“Would these happen to be the containers you two were tasked with delivering?” Seonghwa inquires. He presses something on his keyboard, and a projection of what seems to be security feed pops up. Though the picture’s a bit grainy, the place is undeniably familiar. It’s a small, dim room, chock full of half-naked people wrapped around one another. A familiar figure stands over two open containers of wine - there’s no mistaking: they’re the ones Yunho and Hongjoong had delivered.

 

Hongjoong presses his lips together as he watches the footage. It seems to be from just moments after they’d left. The man who’d collected the package, Rain, speaks into one of his wrists as he turns a bottle over in his free hand.

 

If there’s video of the room after the delivery, there’s definitely footage from before and during it, too. Hongjoong sees no point in denying his involvement, so he concedes. He’s not sure what the big deal is anyways. So what if he delivered some rich playboy’s wine?

 

“That’s them, yeah,” Hongjoong concedes.

 

“So you admit it,” Seongwha says.

 

“Admit what?”

 

“You admit that you hand delivered these to Club Ambustio yourselves.”

 

“Uh… Yeah?” The officer seems so denunciatory, it starts to make Hongjoong nervous.

 

“And you knew what was in these containers?”

 

“Um… Vaguely, yes. We were aware it was, um, spirits- er- wine.”

 

“Ah-ha! So you did knowingly deliver this merchandise to Club Ambustio!” Officer Park jumps up from his seat and slams his hands on the desk so hard his screen display flickers.

 

Anger has officially given way to confusion, and all Hongjoong can do is give the other a wide-eyed, baffled look. So doing his job is a crime now? That still doesn’t explain the full on raid of the place. People were terrified, frantically running everywhere - and for what? Because they’d made a liquor delivery? It doesn’t add up.

 

“Officer, I… I think you’ve lost me here,” Hongjoong says quietly. The more he talks to Officer Park, the more he wonders about the guy’s mental state. Maybe he’s just insane.

 

“The only thing you’ve lost is your right to freedom.”

 

“I- What?!” Hongjoong’s jaw drops in shocked horror. “What are you talking about?!”

 

Seonghwa laughs again (and Joong  _ really  _ thinks the guy’s lost his mind at this point), “You’re good, you know that. The both of you are really good.”

 

“What is going on?” Joong asks, feeling defeated.

 

“Your poker faces are commendable. Did you guys train as actors or something?”

 

“Did we what?” The pair didn’t even have a theater within fifty kilometers of where they’d grown up. Now he’s being accused of acting?

 

“Oh, please. You can drop the act now. We know you’re involved in Jung’s operation.”

 

“What operation?”

 

“Club Ambustio! You guys knowingly aided in the smuggling of Venusian wine into the Colony. We’ve been trying to pinpoint it for months, but we finally got you.”

 

“Venusian wine? Venusian… Wh-” Lots of pieces are being thrown at him, but Hongjoong can’t put the puzzle together. Venusian wine? Ambustio? Smuggling? The Colony? Trying to get them for months?”

 

“Don’t play dumb!” Seonghwa’s tone goes from laughing to aggressive at the drop of a dime. His cerulean eyes bore into Hongjoong as if trying to suck out his mortal soul. “We knew someone was trafficking Venusian wine, and Ambustio’s at the center of it. It’s literally the distribution center.”

 

“I- I think you’re confused,” Hongjoong tries to reason with the guy, throwing his hands up. “I’m serious. Yunho and I just got here. We- we don’t know shit! We just needed some money-”

 

“Do you expect me to believe that!?” The officer shouts. “Are you really telling me that one of the kingpins of the KQ underground approached two random shmucks in a bazaar and trusted them with a shipment of their most precious import?”

 

“Well… Yeah? He just told us wine. He- he didn’t say what kind it was. I- I don’t even know what Venusian wine is.”

 

“Your fakery is getting less and less funny,” Seonghwa says through gritted teeth. “I suggest you drop the act now. We’ve got footage of you discussing the merchandise with the consigliere- just give yourself up already.”

 

“I- I don’t know what that means!” Hongjoong throws his hands up. “I- I really don’t know what you’re saying. Please just- just make sense again. What is going on-”

 

“Look, right here,” Seonghwa gestures to the screen. It quickly rewinds to when Yunho and Hongjoong had been in there. All two minutes of interaction in technicolor. “Are you not being handed a wad of stolen credits?”

 

“We did a job. We got paid. How am I supposed to know that stuff was stolen? How do you know it was-”

 

“We traced the serial numbers of the bills- God that’s the thing about you people. You beg me to make sense when you don’t make any. How stupid do you think I am?”

 

“Listen, Officer, I’m serious. There’s a big misunderstanding here. I promise you we were just pawns in this scheme. I didn’t even know that-”

 

“I suggest you shut your mouth, Kim Hongjoong,” Seongwha cuts him off coldly. “Anything you say can and will be used against you in future hearings.”

 

Hongjoong clamps his lips shut momentarily. He looks back at the screen to see the image of him and Yunho frozen. Frustration and woe roil in his gut, and the souring sensation seeps into his bloodstream, amplifying every little ache his body had adopted over the past few days. No, he thinks.

 

No.

 

This can’t be happening.

 

It can’t.

 

What about Yunho?

 

What about his Compass? The Treasure?

 

It can’t end like this. No way.

 

“What have you done with my belongings?” Hongjoong asks suddenly. The words come as a surprise to even himself. He’d been thinking it, but didn’t intend on saying it. 

 

“I’m sorry?” Officer Park asks, clearly surprised the other is still talking.

 

“My stuff. What have you done with my stuff?” He needs to know the Compass is safe. He needs to.

  
Seonghwa scoffs, his nose scrunched in a clear expression of disgust, “Your ship has been seized along with everything in it and, of course, we cleared your pockets.”

 

Shit. 

 

They have it.

 

Shit.

 

The petty officer drones on, “I hardly see how that’s relevant. You won’t be needing those where you’re goin-”

 

“Please,” Desperation takes over the junker. It’s beyond sad and repugnant, but the thought of losing his Compass sends him dangerously close to the edge of his nerves. Hongjoong pleads, “ _ Please _ let me just- I need just one thing out of there.”

 

“What?”

 

“My ship. I need something from my ship.”

 

“Wh- Are you… Are you serious, Mr. Kim?”

 

“Yes. Dead serious, sir. Just one thing, that’s all.”

 

“You’re in no position to be making demands, Mr. Kim. This is no negotiation - you are under arrest.”

 

“Please, please,” His pride’s flown out the window, and he doesn’t even care. Hongjoong needs the Compass. 

 

He  _ needs  _ it. As silly as it seems, that fantasy, the idea of Treasure, it’s kept him going for so long. In the worst of times, he clung to the abstract idea, the assurance that one day he would genuinely hunt for and find it. The Compass is the closest he’s ever gotten to that dream. It’s the one thing in his life that definitively assures him that his dream isn’t just a fairytale. Having that taken away is unfathomable to him. They might as well rip out his heart.

 

Hongjoong lowers his voice and looks Park Seonghwa right in his soulless, unsettlingly blue eyes; he pleads again, “Please, Officer Park- please, Seonghwa. Haven’t you ever had a- a prized possession? Something you can’t live without? Some family heirloom or something?” In truth, Joong’s half convinced that Seonghwa was made in a factory on a conveyor belt - but now’s not the time to say that. He hopes his genuine, emotional appeal might be able to break the walls of ice surrounding the Petty Officer.

 

“Don’t ever address me by my first name,” Is the first thing the PO says. That’s not good. “What the hell is so important to you that you’d grovel for it like this?”

 

“My Compass,” Hongjoong says without hesitation.

 

“A compass? You’re up in arms about a damn compass?”

 

“Not a compass, officer.  _ The  _ Compass.”

 

“So, what? You need to know which way is north while you’re rotting in a cell? Is that what it is?”

 

“It’s going to show me how to find my Treasure.”

 

“Your treasure I- Wait a minute… Compass… Treasure…” Seonghwa strokes his chin in thought for a moment before looking Hongjoong in the eye again. “You mean to tell me you’ve managed to acquire the fabled Compass? The one talked about in the stories that lead to  _ the  _ Treasure? The fortune of the nameless adventurer?”

 

“Yes, Officer Park, I have. And I really need it back,” Hongjoong says, completely serious. 

 

Silence bubbles up between them, and it makes Hongjoong nervous. Seonghwa remains frozen, fixed in place eyeing the other with an unknown expression lurking beneath his eyes. Joong’s gaze doesn’t waver, either. He’s dead serious, and he wants the PO to know. If there’s even the slightest shot that he can get through to the man, he’ll take it.

 

After a minute that feels like an hour, a sound cracks the tension.

 

It’s a snort.

 

Hongjoong frowns.

 

Officer Park lets out another snort. And another. His badly suppressed snickering rapidly devolves into a full blown fit of laughter until the blond is hunched over and holding his sides. His laughter bounces loudly off of the walls of the interrogation room. It’s the most emotion Hongjoong has seen from the man all day, and he honestly prefers the frosty, robotic man from before.

 

Though his ears burn, Hongjoong rolls his eyes. He’s been ridiculed since childhood by his beliefs. Petty Officer Park Seonghwa is not the first and likely not the last to laugh in his face for his determination. 

 

“Ha-ha-ha! Oh my- Oh my god- I can’t I can’t-” Seonghwa sniffles, wiping a tear from his eye. “I can’t breath I can’t- ha-ha!” He wheezes, having to lean on the desk to support himself. “Holy shit- There’s no- there’s no drugs in your system either, I can’t belive you just- you- ha!”

 

Hongjoong crosses his arms and waits for the other to come drown from his hysteria. It takes a few more minutes, and there’s a lot of stuttering and breathless jabs in the process.

 

“Oh my god I- Oof- I haven’t laughed that hard in years-” (That doesn’t surprise Hongjooong one bit.) “-oh my god- I needed that.” The platinum blond wipes a tear.

 

“I’m glad you enjoyed your foray into humanity,” Hongjoong says flatly. His expression is unwavering.

 

“Heh-” Seongwha comes down from his high, and his expressions frosts over again, “So you’re an actor and a funny guy, too.”

 

“Actually, I’m serious,” Hongjoong says.

 

“You know what kills a joke, Mr. Kim? Taking things too far.”

 

“I’m not joking.”

 

Seonghwa narrows his eyes at Hongjoong, and Hongjoong mirrors the gesture back. A silent battle of wills rages between the two for a second. On one side: the icy, dutiful officer of the law. On the other: the passionate, roguish junker who is in the wrong place at the wrong time. Dark brown eyes lock with blue ones, a heightened sense of pressure between them.

 

“Dye…” Hongjoong mutters, breaking the silence.

 

“What was that, Mr. Kim?” Seongwha asks indignantly.

 

Hongjoong nods to himself and repeats, “Dye…”

 

Seongwha’s brow furrows, and he clenches his fists, “Is that a threat, Mr. Kim?”

 

“Yup,” Hongjoong ignores him. “That’s definitely dye.”

 

“Wh-”

 

“Your hair. Your features are really striking. It seemed too good to be true - because it is, of course.”

 

“Wh-Wha-”

 

“The dye job’s immaculate, though. Did you do that yourself?” Joong shakes his head. “Nah, there’s no way. It’s too good.”

 

Red flushes the young officer’s cheeks. Joong acknowledges that it’s entirely too satisfying to rile him up, but it serves him right for being so rude. 

 

“And you expect me to believe your hair is really that sandy color? Don’t get me started on the back, either,” The officer shoots back.

 

“Well, I’m not the one masquerading as some perfect little soldier boy.”

 

“I’m not masquerading as anything. I am a soldier- a damn good one at that. One that’s about to put you away.”

 

“You- What?!” It’s Hongjoong’s turn to guffaw. “You’re a paper pusher.”

 

Seonghwa rolls his eyes, “I’m  _ so  _ sorry that due process and procedure are an inconvenience to you. Would you prefer that we kill on sight instead?”

 

“Maybe,” Joong shrugs glibly, “At least it’d save me the indignity of playing make believe with Petty Officer Prettyboy.”

 

“What exactly about this is make believe, Mr. Kim? Is this some joke to you? Trafficking, arms dealing, gang activity… What about that  _ isn’t real _ to you, Mr. Kim?”

 

Hongjoong scoffs in disbelief, “How about everything? I  _ told  _ you  _ exactly  _ what happened, but you blatantly choose not to believe anything! You already decided what crimes I’m gonna be charged with before I even got the chance to open my eyes.”

 

“You told me everything?” Officer Park scorns the other, even tipping his nose up ever so slightly, “What you told me was fairytales.”

 

“I didn’t say anything but the truth!”

 

“You expect me to believe that you two jackasses had  _ no  _ idea you were delivering illegally imported Venusian wine to one of the Colony’s hotbeds of gang activity?”

 

“Yes! Yes I do!” The junker throws his hands up.

 

“I’m more likely to believe you about the Compass than that.”

 

“It is real.”

 

“So you told me. As endearing as your childlike delusion is, your insistence really isn’t helping your case, Mr. Kim.”

 

“It’s called a dream, actually.”

 

“Excuse me?”

 

“You call it delusion. I call it a dream,” Hongjoong says defiantly. “Of course, I’m guessing you might be unfamiliar with the word. Looks like you threw yours away a long time ago.”

 

“Excuse me? I’m sorry- what did you-”

 

“Petty Officer by age, what, twenty? That means you took the fast track in secondary school. Seems awful young to sentence yourself to a life as a blackcoat.”

 

“Sentence myself? A life of service and duty isn’t a damning ‘sentence’.”

 

“Is that what this is? A life of ‘service’ and ‘duty’?” Hongjoong snickers. “Tailing a warrant officer and taking his notes? I bet you get lots of leftover jobs, too. The stuff nobody else will do. You probably do them  _ really  _ attentively with a big smile. That’s what gets you ahead in the military, right? Being the most eager idiot to lick your superiors’ boots at the drop of a hat? What do they call that… Honor? Teamwork?”

 

That stirs a reaction, and a sense of wicked satisfaction glows in Hongjoong’s heart. 

 

“Honest people know their place, Mr. Kim. We don’t take shortcuts. We understand that we have to pay our dues before moving onto bigger, better things.”

 

“Shortcuts? You think that’s what I’m doing? Taking shortcuts?”

 

“Choosing quick, easy money over honest work is what I consider a shortcut, yes. Must be nice getting paid in wads of cash for menial jobs, collecting other people’s trash, stealing…”

 

“Stealing?”

 

“I’ve seen your record, Mr. Kim. I know about your infractions on KQ09081 - your home planet.”

 

“Wow… _Wow_ ,” Hongjoong lets out a laugh - not from humor but from utter dumbfounded disbelief. “Congratulations. You  _ really  _ booked me. That one time, juvenile infraction surely indicates a life of crime will inevitably follow.”

 

“It always starts early.”

 

“You know, it’s almost impressive how much of a stereotype you are. Or- it would be if it wasn’t just so  _ sad _ .”

 

“I’m certainly not the one in need of pity in this situation, Mr. Kim.”

 

“Who are you trying to fool, Park Seonghwa? Why are you trying  _ so  _ hard to be some pristine beacon of ‘justice’? If you really cared about justice, you’d try to get to the bottom of this - not pin it on the first guy you see.”

 

“Are you asking me why I choose to perform well at my jo-”

 

“It’s daddy issues, isn’t it?” Hongjoong ventures. There’s a brief pause in the petty officer. For the shortest of instants, the appearance of prim composedness falters. It’s like watching an image on a screen glitch. For just one second, the picture is imperfect, riddled with artifacts and dead pixels. Just as quickly as it’d come, that tiny shred of insecurity goes. Still, it’s enough for Hongjoong, and he takes the leap where he’d been given a hop. “That’s what it is, isn’t it?”

 

“Mr. Kim, I suggest you stop speaki-”

 

“So what is it, then? Was papa an accomplished soldier? You’ve got some inferiority complex- feel like you can never live up to him? Or did he just impose it on you? You wanted to be a dancer, but daddy said you were gonna be a soldier... Or, maybe, your papa wasn’t a good man at all. Maybe he treated you and your mom really bad, and you swore to yourself you’d be the big man to protect her. Hm… Which one is it?”

 

Lividity burns beneath the Petty Officer’s azure eyes, and Joong swears he can see a vein stick out on the guy’s neck. The officer clenches his fists even harder, making the leather gloves he’s wearing squeak. The fury within strains against it’s glacial confines, but it never manages to burn through. Instead, the officer responds, cool and collected. Calculated.

 

“At least I have a mommy and daddy,” Seonghwa says, his tone so chilled it gives Hongjoong goosebumps. “I would be upset, too, if my parents got STD’s from the vile hybrids they stupidly welcomed into their home.”

 

Hongjoong freezes in place. Ire burns in his chest, searing his heart and ribcage.

  
What did he just say?

 

“You know those are hereditary - diseases like that, I mean. You ought to get checked out.”

 

“You have no idea what you’re talking about,” Hongjoong says through gritted teeth. Even the surface of his skin feels like it’s on fire, alight with scarcely suppressed anger.

 

Seongwha leans over his desk real close, and his voice lowers into a tone dripping malice, “I know that your parents died of the same illness that took Jeong Yunho’s parents. Said illness is spread through sexual contact. Perhaps magical osmosis accounts for your parents’ infection. But, from the data I’ve gathered, with my powers of deduction, I think the real conclusion to reach is much more simple. That being: your mother was a knot-loving who-”

 

_ “Thwaack!” _

 

Hongjoong blacks out about then.

 

Well, maybe blackout isn’t the right way to put it. It’s more of a blur, really. Everything is a blur. The passage of time slows to a sluggish crawl, and the sound of blood surging through his veins fills Hongjoong’s ears.

 

One second, he’s looking at the condescending mug of Petty Officer Park Seongwha.

 

The next, all of a sudden, he’s got the man by his collar, punching him senseless. Something hot splashes across his knuckles. He faintly registers the sound of shrill yelling and alarms. A hand is on his wrist, fighting to push him off. Lights flash, and the door to the interrogation room opens again, and shapes flood in. Maybe they’re people or robots - Hongjoong isn’t sure.

 

Then he really blacks out.

 

The last thing he remembers is acute pain stabbing into his wrists. 

 

Then black.

 

* * *

 

“In,” A guard grunts, kicking the small of Hongjoong’s back.

 

The Captain winces as he stumbles into the small holding cell. The door quickly shuts behind him, the locking mechanism clicking and clacking in his wake. 

 

“You’ll be moved to high security tomorrow. Any trouble out of you, and it’s solitary. Got it?” The guard says again. Hongjoong wonders if he expects an answer; however, the guard’s quick departure tells him that, no, he does not. Seems like he’s not very interested in anything anyone has to say.

 

It’s weird. Everytime Hongjoong comes to from forcefully induced sleep, he thinks he can’t possibly get any more sore. And every time he’s wrong. His wrists still sting from the discipline device they’d used, and he’s fairly certain Petty Officer Prettyboy landed a few blows on his sides, too. Basically everything hurts.

 

Again.

 

Thankfully, it’s not all bad.

 

“Hongjoong!” An excited and blissfully familiar voice calls out. 

 

Hongjoong’s eyes widen when he sees Yunho across the cell, golden tail wagging ever so slightly. Even though he looks to be in decent spirits, he’s got bindings around his torso, keeping his arms and even tail planted firmly in place.

 

“Yunho, holy shit!” Joong strides straight past the other inmates present to give his friend a hug. “Shit. I’m so glad you’re okay. A-are you okay? What’ve they done to you?!” 

 

Yunho nods, “I’m fine. Well, I mean, kinda fine. A bit tied up.”

 

“What, did you punch someone or something?”

 

“Nah, they just said I moved too much,” Yunho shrugs. He’s the type that doesn’t let on even if something is terribly wrong, so Joong hopes he’s okay. “They said the tail’s distracting or something.”

 

Hongjoong slumps on the floor next to Yunho. Just being in the other’s presence soothes him, even with their circumstances.

 

“Glad you’re alright, buddy,” Hongjoong says.

 

“Y-yeah,” Yunho replies. He fidgets a little beneath his restraints. “What do you think’s gonna happen?”

 

“Hm?”

 

“When they transfer us? They said high security. That seems pretty extreme, don’t you think?”

 

“He did say that, didn’t he… That can’t be right,” Hongjoong frowns. So what if he’d assaulted an officer of the law, surely Yunho hadn’t. So why are they going somewhere with high security? The petty officer had gone on about due process, but Hongjoong’s pretty sure it’s not working the way it should. He supposes this is what he gets for dropping out - he has no idea what’s going on or what gives the Galactic Navy the right to ship them off to prison.

 

Then, he realizes: it doesn’t matter.

 

What they are or aren’t allowed to do really doesn’t matter when it comes to guys like Hongjoong and Yunho. Neither had any major tethers to the universe save for one another. Their junky ship was bought with cash, and their job is just contract to contract. They have no money, no resources, and no living family.

 

Nobody is gonna miss them, and nobody’s gonna care if there’s two less broke bastards digging through the trash heaps of the galaxy.

 

“If you’re here it’s because you're dangerous,” A voice pipes up from across the cell. Hongjoong sits up slightly, surprised someone had addressed them. He looks between the two other inmates. One’s pretty small, hunched over and hugging his knees in a corner. No, Hongjoong thinks, it’s probably not him.

 

The closer of the two sits on the ground, one leg bent while the other stretches out in front of him. He’s got ashy colored hair and a bunch of piercings. The guy is clearly handsome and even well dressed. His leather pants look a lot nicer than Joong and Yunho’s tattered denim, and the massive fur collar of his jacket makes him look almost rich. Hongjoong wonders how a guy like that ended up in jail.

 

“Come again?” Joong asks, quirking an eyebrow.

 

The handsome one turns to them and clarifies, “The Coalition thinks you’re dangerous. That’s why you’re here, in this cell. This is the west side jail- the holding cells here are modular. Makes transferring the ornery types a lot easier. We’ll be sealed up and stuck onto a ship like freight come morning.”

 

Hongjoong tilts his head inquisitively, “How… Do you know all that? Have you been here before?” He almost wants to ask: have you gotten out?

 

“Me?” The inmate chuckles, “No. I know a few who’ve gone through it before, though.”

 

“Huh.”

 

The inmate seems to study Hongjoong and Yunho for a minute before talking again, “Jung Wooyoung.” He introduces himself curtly.

 

“Hi, I’m Yunho! Jeong Yunho,” Yunho blurts out. He moves to wave at the other but then remembers that he can’t. Instead, he just flashes the guy a grin.

 

Sometimes, Hongjoong wishes Yunho wasn’t so trusting. Maybe then he wouldn’t do things like give dangerous criminals his full name without a second thought. Unfortunately, it’s too late. Joong gives in and introduces himself as well.

 

“Kim Hongjoong,” The older of the pair says. “Nice to, uh, make your acquaintance.”

 

The inmate - Wooyoung, that is - chuckles again, “It’d probably be nicer if we weren’t in jail, huh?”

 

“Just a little.”

 

“So you two know each other?” Wooyoung asks.

 

“Yup!” Yunho answers chipperly. “Since childhood.”

 

“How’d a pair like you end up in a place like this? If you don’t mind me asking, that is. It’s just- you don’t look like your from around these parts.”

 

“Probably because we’re not,” Hongjoong replies. “No, we, uh, were… We were in the wrong place at the wrong time. Took a job that went sour. Guess we’re… We’re dangerous criminals now.” He frowns.

 

“That’s how it goes with the GC,” Wooyoung sighs. “You don’t kiss their ass and suddenly you’re ‘dangerous’. One job gone wrong or an information leak - that’s all it takes.” Bitterness underlines his words.

 

“Is that what happened to you?” Yunho asks. 

 

“Huh?” Wooyoung seems surprised that Yunho would bother to ask. “Uh, yeah. Guess you could say it’s the same thing as you guys. Wrong place, wrong time. A job gone bad and - boom! - here I am.”

 

“What about you?” Yunho leans over, looking pointedly at the silent one on the far end. He looks small and young - thought that might just be his posture. He’s got chestnut colored hair and a school uniform on. A student? “What’s your name?” The humecanis asks.

 

The broody boy looks up from from his hunched position wordlessly. He looks like he hasn’t seen a lot of sleep, poor guy. Nervously, he fidgets with his fingers a little and bites his lip.

 

After a few moments of apparent deliberation, the kid hesitantly speaks, “Choi Jongho.” Is all he says.

 

“Aren’t you kinda young to be in jail?” Yunho asks tactlessly. Hongjoong elbows him in the side.

 

“No,” Jongho answers. “I’m eighteen.”

 

“Oh. O-okay,” Yunho backs down. “Don’t suppose you had a job go bad, too - did you?”

 

“No.”

 

“That’s good! Or. Well. It’s not good, I mean you’re here, but-”

 

Hongjoong cuts the other off,“Yunho, I think he gets what you mean.”

 

Silence falls upon the cell for awhile. Hongjoong finds himself dozing in and out of consciousness for brief spells of time. It’s never long or restful, just enough to disorient him. The only thing they hear is the occasional footsteps of guards passing by their cell or the echoes of yells in the distance. 

 

Joong takes in his surroundings during his waking moments. He’d never been in jail before. Not once. Not even when he’d gotten written up for stealing a soundboard from the old pawn shop back at home. For a place that’s chock full of alleged criminals, the place looks flawless - like, absolutely spotless. There’s not a speck of dirt in the pristine, white cells. The metal bars in front of them gleam like they’d been diligently polished, and the bright lights in the place reflecting off of the lustrous surface are practically blinding.

 

Through his limited impressions, that’s the vibe Hongjoong gets from the Galactic Coalition. Suffocatingly sterile. The Coalition had seemed so far away on his home planet and even when he’d gone out to be a jobber. They were around, yeah, but they hardly paid mind to the locale he’d grown up on. He’s pretty sure his home planet was what many fondly referred to as “a lost cause”. When he’d transitioned into making an honest living, it’s not like he’d ever seen them, either. Aside from the occasional patrol ship or security outpost, they didn’t really bother with the fringe planets he and Yunho frequented.

 

Never in a millennium did he think he’d find himself jailed by them.

 

A pit forms in his chest just thinking about it.

 

“Yunho,” Hongjoong whispers. He’s not sure why. Everything’s so quiet, he supposes talking at normal volume feels disruptive - even if it’s not. “I’m sorry.”

 

“Hm?” Yunho hums in response, rousing from a nap he’d fallen into.

 

“Yunho I’m sorry,” The human says again.

 

Yunho’s brows furrow in confusion, “Wha… What’re you talking about? What for?” He answers back.

 

“For this,” Hongjoong gestures to the cell. “We wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for me.”

 

“Huh? Joong what’re you talking about? You and I are in this together.”

 

“Listen, I know, but- I mean KQ. We wouldn’t even be at this colony if I hadn’t… If I hadn’t demanded we come here first,” His stomach knots up with dread. “Hell, maybe if I hadn’t made you sniff out another fucking battery, we could’ve avoided a lot of grief.”

 

“What are you talking about? Hongjoong, this is a team effort, okay? Your mistakes are my mistakes and vice versa. Neither of us knew this would happen. You can’t blame yourself for this.”

 

“I do, though. It’s my responsibility to make the final calls, and I made a shitty one.”

 

“We took a job that seemed good at the time. I mean- aftermath aside it was a good job.”

 

“Yeah but that guy- he was sketchy. I shouldn’t have taken his money.”

 

“Everyone we work for is sketchy.  _ We’re _ sketchy.”

 

“No. Let me take responsibility for this.”   
  


“Why? So you can kick yourself over it? No,” Yunho says resolutely. He makes a move to cross his arms before being reminded yet again that he’s bound.

 

“You know I’m gonna kick myself no matter what. I mean, look at you. I just-” Emotion smacks Hongjoong without warning, and a massive lump rises in his throat. He tries to swallow it down and blinks away the tears welling up in his eyes. “Things were gonna be different."   
  


“Hongjoong…”

 

“I’m serious! They were gonna be different. All we had to do was- was-” He lowers his voice as he tries to keep it together, “We just had to get out and start searching for our Treasure. I thought that maybe we could just stop surviving and- I dunno, it sounds stupid now.”

 

“It doesn’t sound stupid.”

 

“Yeah, it does!” Joong’s voice raises unintentionally. He wrings his hands down his face and hushes his tone again, “I’m sorry I got you into this mess, Yunho.”

 

“You didn’t get me into anything. I choose to follow you, remember? Because I believe in you, and trust me: I want that Treasure just as bad as you do.” Yunho reaches out to squeeze Hongjoong’s hand.

 

“Treasure?” Wooyoung’s voice pops up from across the cell. 

 

“Hm?” Hongjoong turns to look at the inmate.

 

“You, uh, you mentioned something about treasure,” Wooyoung elaborates. “You guys got a secret stash or something?”

 

“Oh. Y-yeah, it, um… I know it sounds stupid to outsiders, but Yunho and I found a Compass.”

 

“ _ The _ Compass?” Wooyoung asks, intrigued.

 

“Um, yeah, actually. I know it sounds-“

 

“No, no, that’s cool,” Wooyoung scoots a bit closer to them, “You really think you found it, though? The Compass? Like the story?”

 

“I definitely found _something_ ,” Hongjoong replies. “It’s really… Different. Unlike anything I’ve ever seen before. Lots of old, sorta weird looking tech. It’s got parts missing, but… I know what it is. Of course, now it’s seized. Along with my ship and everything else.”

 

“Damn,” Wooyoung says, “That sucks. I remember that story. It was always my favorite. People act like it’s just a fairytale, but it always seemed real to me.”

 

“That’s what I say,” Hongjoong can’t help smiling. He agrees.

 

“I mean, if you ask me, it all adds up,” Wooyoung ventures a joke - anything to lighten their situation. Joong doesn’t know the guy, but he appreciates it. “I mean- How does a story like the spread, you know? It’s told so many different ways, but there’s always a Treasure, and a Compass.”

 

Joong nods, “The adventurer always goes to a far away planet-“

 

“-On the edge of the universe,” Wooyoung finishes. The two exchange weak smiles. It’s a small comfort, sharing stories, but one that helps warm their hearts regardless. Ridiculous as it is given the damning circumstances, it sort of helps.

 

“And… He’s always betrayed, isn’t he?”

 

“Yeah. How ‘bout that?”

 

“What’re you guys talking about?” The youngest in the cell asks. All eyes dart to the quiet Choi Jongho. He looks at the others timidly, just barely poking his head up from his closed up posture.

 

“Oh- the story of the Treasure,” Hongjoong says.

 

Jongho’s face wrinkles with confusion, “What story?”

 

“Wh- You’ve never heard of The Treasure?” Wooyoung’s jaw drops in disbelief. “Did you have a childhood?”

 

“I- No. Is that like, a movie or something?”

 

Yunho gasps in disbelief,“It’s a story. Like, a really big one- How do you not know this?!”

 

“What? I- I don’t know!” Jongho replies defensively.

 

“Are you serious?” “Yes, I’m serious.” “Come on!” “You’ve really never heard it?” “I haven’t.” “You’ve probably heard it.” “Are you for real?” “Why is this so hard to believe, I-“ Yunho and Wooyoung hound the kid with their exclamations.

 

“Okay- Okay, okay!” Hongjoong raises his hands to settle them down, “Why don’t I just tell the story so that way Jongho isn’t a freakish pariah of society,” Joong says with a chuckle. He neglects to mention that being flagged as “dangerous” prisoners makes them  _ all _ freakish pariahs of society.

 

“Alright, children, quiet down,” Hongjoong says in his best impression of a dad putting the kids to bed.

 

“You gonna tuck me in?” Yunho jokes.

 

“Shut up,” Hongjoong elbows the humecanis in the ribs. “ _ Anyways _ \- it, uh, it can go lots of different ways. I guess I’ll tell it my favorite way, the way papa did. Of course, it’ll be abridged. The thing’s like a novel, but um…

 

“We start on a remote planet in the middle of nowhere. A dusty, shitty place - one of Old Earth’s first terraformed colonies. Some say the original Mars. A young man by the name of Dex lives with his parents on the old farmstead. He’s sharp and has a knack for adventure - a bit of a free thinker, too. Sometimes that gets him in trouble around the parts he lives in.

 

“One night, he’s tucked in nice and tight in his little bed, and he has a dream- a- a vision. He sees it, something nobody else has, and he gives it a name: Treasure. He knew he had to find it, but he had to get off his crappy little planet. He had no money and only one friend to his name. So, he had to make a plan.

 

“Dex and his buddy get themselves a ship. The means are… Questionably legal. He waves sayonara to his home planet - says one day maybe he’ll be back. Didn’t even have a chance to kiss his folks goodbye.

 

“Now, this guy doesn’t exactly know what he’s doing. He makes a lot of pit stops, driven only by his intuition- just- just pure feeling. His journey takes him a lot of places, and he meets a lot of different people. Aliens, humans, and everything in between. Some of them help him along with his journey. Others… Not so much.

 

“Dex gets a loyal crew, and with his intuition, they’re guided to the farthest edge of the universe. They approach the planet that houses the Treasure. Dex describes it as the true outer edge of reality itself. Says all he saw beyond that place was black stillness. Not a single star shone. Not one.”

 

The other three inmates are mesmerised by Hongjoong’s hushed story telling. Jongho mumbles a soft “whoa” to himself, his mind boggled from trying to picture genuine nothingness.

 

Hongjoong continues, “Dex and the crew land on this planet and nearly die. They say that the Treasure is at the core of the planet. Some tellings describe it as an immense wealth- an entire planet made of riches. Others say that it holds the fountain of youth deep in one of the planet’s verdant forests… A few like to fantasize about it being some world-ending weapon.

 

“Dex finds, it, though. Sometimes they emphasize his triumphant return. He goes back to his home planet a success story, gives his mom and dad the life they dreamed of. Shuts down the oppressive regimes holding them down. Kisses the love interest. Everything ends happily ever after.”

 

“Seriously?” Jongho interjects. “That’s it?”

 

“Don’t be rude!” Yunho says.

 

“Shut up, it’s a great story!” Wooyoung adds, “What do you want? Doom and gloom? Like we don’t have enough in this world.”

 

“I’m just saying, it’s kind of a cop out. Come on- You can’t seriously expect me to believe after all of that- the- the- travel across the galaxy- finding a planet at the edge of reality - after that everything just… Ends all happy go lucky? That’s it?”

 

“What’s wrong with a happy ending?” Yunho protests.

 

“Hey, no, it’s fine,” Hongjoong tries to calm everyone down. “No, uh, actually I agree with you, though.”

 

“See?” Jongho says with more confidence, “He agrees.”

 

Joong lets out a laugh, “Yeah. I think the point of the story really is the journey. The ending is vague, it always changes, but the situations always stay the same. The characters- they might look different or have different names, but it’s always the same set of personalities. 

 

“To me, what that tells me is that the journey’s what really matters. For aimless Dex to finally have drive and purpose, for his horizons to be expanded to the point of distorting his perception of reality itself…

 

“In the end, the Treasure barely matters, but… Whatever it is, it was important enough that the old captain made a device to guide people there. Maybe so one day he could go back himself. I guess that’s what drove me crazy. Why did he make a map to lead someone back to that place? I mean- What else could he possibly have wanted with it if the ending was really as happy as it seems?” Hongjoong wonders.

 

“And you found the Compass? His Compass?” Wooyoung asks. 

 

“We definitely found  _ something _ . Of course, that doesn’t matter, does it? In a few hours time we’ll be shipped off to high security…”

 

“Hope,” Jongho mutters suddenly.

 

“Huh?” Hongjoong glances at the kid confusedly again.

 

“What if the Treasure is hope?” Jongho nods to himself. “The Captain- Dex- he was… Sad, maybe lonely on his home planet. But seeing that vision gave him hope. It gave him something to live for, something to go on.”

 

“What?”

 

Jongho shrugs, “It’s just my theory.” He clenches his fists. “Without hope, people wither and die quickly. The body shuts down if it doesn’t have any will to go on.”

 

“That’s… Nice and dark,” Yunho remarks.

 

“H-hey,” Wooyoung reaches a hand out to the younger one, “It’s gonna be alright.”

 

“No- No it’s not gonna be alright,” Jongho wrings a hand through his hair. “It’s not! Don’t you get it?” His voice starts to raise.

 

“Wh- Hey, hey, hey, let’s calm down-“

 

“I am not gonna calm down!” Jongho bursts onto his feet, and the others shrink away. The kid’s upset, and Hongjoong can’t blame him - but he also can’t help feeling a bit terrified. He hadn’t heard more than a few words from the 

 

“Hey, hey- Settle down-“ Wooyoung is the first to try and reason with him.

 

“No, I will not settle down!” Jongho steps over to the door of their cell and starts kicking.

 

_ “Clang. Clang.” _ He hits the solid metal with the bottom of his foot.

 

All of the cellmates gasp, clamoring to settle him down,“Whoa- Whoa, stop it!” “What’re you doing!?” “You’re gonna break your foot.” “Settle down, Jongho, it’s- it’s gonna be fine-“ “Jongho, you need to calm down-“

 

“I am not-“  _ “Clang.” _ “-going to-“  _ “Clang.” _ “-settle-“  _ “Clang.” _ “-down!” Jongho punctuates each word with a kick to the door.

 

Hongjoong tries to reason with him,“Whoa- Jongho, it’s not that serious-“

 

“This is our life!”  _ “Clang.” _ “This is the most serious thing we’ll ever-“  _ “Clang.” _ “-experience.” “Clang.”

 

“Jongho, it’s fine.” “It’s fine, really.” “If the guards come over here, you don’t know what they could do to you.” “Why are you doing this?” “You don’t have to-“ “Just stop- stop kicking it.” “You’re gonna break your foot.”

 

Joong tries again, wearily approaching the rioting teen,“Jongho, really, you have to stop before- before-“

 

“Before what?” Jongho shouts. “What’re they gonna do? Put me in jail?”  _ “Clang.” _

 

“Yes.  _ Worse _ jail,” Wooyoung cuts in. “You’re gonna go from high to maximum-“ ( _“Clang.”_ ) “-security.”

 

“What does it matter anyways, huh? My life’s over, right? Parents disowned me-” _“Clang.”_ “-prospects gone-“ _“Clang.”_

 

“The hell did you do, man?” Yunho asks.

 

“Dude, you can’t ask that!” Wooyoung derides him. 

 

“Why not? What if he’s really dangerous?” ”Guys, calm down. It’s none of our business.” “I’m busting us out of here! You’re getting your Treasure-“ “We are not busting out anywhere!” “Are you insane?!” The cell erupts into a spell of chaos, people talking over one another all the while young Choi Jongho relentlessly assaults the door to their cell.

 

“Stop kicking the door.” “Someone’s gonna come looking.” “The guards probably have a patrol-“ “Jongho calm down-“ “No- Fuck this!” “Jongho- your foot it can’t be okay-“ “What if we’re next?” “Shut up!” “We’re getting out of here!” “No we are not. We are staying put in this cell before-“ “Fuck this!” “Before-“

 

_ “Clang!” “Clang!” “Clang!” “Thud!!” _

 

With a thunderous sound, the entire din comes to a screeching halt.

 

Everyone freezes.

 

It almost feels like time itself freezes.

 

All four stop in place, jaws dropped in awe.

 

There’s a massive hole where a door used to stand. 

 

He did it.

 

He _actually_ did it.

 

Choi Jongho kicked down the door of a high security jail cell. 

 

“What  _ are _ you?” Yunho asks, his voice soft and awed.

 

“I’m your ticket out,” Jongho says.

 

_ “Wheeeep! Wheeeep! Wheeeep!” _ Alarms screech loudly across the premises. They’re deafening to the point of being disorienting.

 

“Well fuck this shit, we gotta go,” Wooyoung darts out the door. 

 

Yunho scrambles onto his feet clumsily, stumbling over toward the gaping hole where a door had once been.

 

Hongjoong’s the last one in the cell. He’s still shocked, pinned in place by the surreality of the turn his life’s taken. Sirens wail, alerting a jail full of guards and GC officers that inmates have escaped.

 

He’s one of them.

 

How - he wonders - how the hell did I get here?

 

He’s so outside of himself for a second he forgets that the young man sitting like an idiot inside the cell with a busted door is him. That’s when words bring him back:

 

“Will you join us?”

 

“Huh- What?” Hongjoong comes to. Yunho, Wooyoung, and Jongho poke their heads in through the open doorway.

 

Yunho hollers, “Captain are you coming or not?! C-Come on, we don’t have much time!”

 

“R-right,” Hongjoong mutters. He hops onto his feet, and joins the band of now escaped inmates. 

 

How did his life get here?

 

What’s he gonna do as a prisoner on the run?

 

Will he even get out?

 

How will he find his Treasure?

 

Questions like this should plague Hongjoong’s mind, but they don’t. Maybe it’s the alarm sirens echoing down the hallway, or maybe it’s the hand dragging him out of the cell and into the chaos. His feet carry him forward. To where, he doesn’t know.

 

All he knows is that there’s no turning back.

 

He has to get out.

 

They all do.


	3. Chapter 3

Their feet pound loudly against the grated metal floor beneath them. Other inmates howl and yell in their wake, hollering everything from obscenities to encouragement.

 

“Emergency! Emergency!” A robotic voice drones through the speakers. “Code orange on floor six. Code orange on floor six. Up to four dangerous individuals on the lam. Emergency! Emergency…”

 

The cellmates ignore the announcement.

 

They ignore everything. All they do is run. Run, run, run - down long corridors and around corners.

 

“What’s the plan?” Yunho asks, winded. His running’s more stunted than usual, his bindings impeding his balance. Joong can see the pain on his face - his hearing is sensitive, and the sirens are probably actually painful for him to hear. Wooyoung’s at point with Jongho behind him while Hongjoong brings up the rear. Even if they all have different ideas of what the hell they’re gonna do when they get out of there, for now it’s no man left behind.

 

“Plan?” Wooyoung asks over his shoulder. “Uh, run, that’s the plan.”

 

Hongjoong nods,“Good plan, good plan, except- wait- wait-“ He gestures ahead of them. At the end of the cell-lined corridor they see the shadows of approaching guards. “Don’t get caught-“ He nods to a narrow hallway branching off to their left. “That’s a good plan, too.”

 

The four dash down the narrow hall not a second too soon. Neat rows of GC guards stomp down the corridor no sooner than the second they dodge down the hall. The escapees press themselves against the wall as the men pass, neither daring to even breathe too loud.

 

When the throng of blackcoats is done storming the path, Hongjoong nods toward the far end of the hallway they’d ducked down. There’s a few doors, but no cells which he hopes bodes well for them.

 

Hushedly, Hongjoong murmurs, “We have to find the Compass.”

 

“What?” Jongho asks, stopping in his tracks.

 

“Th-The Compass. I’m not leaving without it,” Joong looks at the others, “You guys can go where you want, but I- I can’t-“

 

“No, don’t be stupid,” Wooyoung interjects. “We’re sticking together.”

 

“You really don’t have to-“

 

“Yes. We really do. If we wanna have any chance of getting out of this alive, we stick together,” Wooyoung says.

 

Hongjoong nibbles on his lower lip. He knows Wooyoung is right, but he can’t help feeling guilty for sucking the others into his own mess. He looks to Yunho, like the other will have some profound insight. The humecanis just nods in agreement with the other.

 

“A-are you sure?” Hongjoong asks again.

 

“Can we question our life choices after we get out of jail?” Jongho says.

 

“R-right. Right. Shit,” Hongjoong hisses. He grasps for anything he’s learned over the past twenty years that could possibly help him. Anything at all - stuff he’s read in books, stories he’s heard… But he’s got nothing. “Shit. Wh-where do we even begin?”

 

“There’s a holding hangar for all confiscated ships,” Wooyoung replies.

 

“A what?”

 

“Your Compass - it’s in your ship, isn’t it?”

 

“Uh, right-“

 

“Okay, so they probably haven’t processed all of the stuff collected in the past twenty-four hours yet. It’ll all be there - it’s basically like a… An evidence holding room.”

 

Jongho narrows his eyes at Wooyoung, “How… How do you know that?”

 

Wooyoung purses his lips, “So maybe I know a few guys who’ve been through the system. What about it?”

 

“Been through the system or busted out?”

 

“Tomato, potato.”

 

“That’s not how that phrase goes-“

 

“We don’t have time for this!” Hongjoong growls. “Now, Wooyoung, since you seem to have some… Ill-founded expertise in this area - any idea how to get to this hangar?”

 

“Um…” Wooyoung shakes his head, “No, not really. There’s a few of these hangars at a big facility like this, but…”

 

“But what?”

 

“But if we get access to a computer, I can look it up.”

 

“You can get into the Coalition’s secure database?”

 

“Is now the time for questions? Let’s leave my hobbies out of this.”

 

Hongjoong raises his eyebrows,“Mining GC data is a hobby of yours- you know what, nevermind. Okay, computer, computer…”

 

“There’s gotta be, like, a security station or something, right?” Jongho asks,”Somewhere they can, like, watch the video feeds and stuff, right?”

 

“That’d be perfect,” Wooyoung says. “We just have to-“ Another storm of guards pass through the hallway perpendicular to them. Singleminded, the throng runs straight past them. “-We have to not get caught. It’s not like I can get in instantly, either. I’ll need a minute.”

 

Yunho wonders,“Do you think one of those security stations is behind closed doors? Will it be on this level?”

 

“I can try to knock it down,” Jongho proposes. “The doors, I mean. I’m guessing something like a security station’s gotta be behind some kind of lock. It’s probably all hands on deck with escaped prisoners, so we may be able to find it unmanned.”

 

“No,” Hongjoong shakes his head, “Kicking down doors risky and loud. It’d be better if… If we had a key to the lock. Feed detail is pretty low security. They let grunts do that, so it’s probably not something too sophisticated like retinal or auric. We can probably lift a physical key somehow.”

 

“Oh, yeah, lemme just ask nicely,” Wooyoung chuckles wryly, “I’m sure they’ll be happy to lend us one!”

 

“Wait- wait- wait-“ Jongho holds a hand up, gears in his head visibly turning. “I’ve got an idea.”

 

* * *

 

“H-Hello?” Yunho murmurs in the middle of the main corridor. It’s hardly audible over the weeping sirens and loud intonation of the emergency message.

 

“Be more appealing!” Jongho calls from just around the corner down the narrow hall.

 

“How am I supposed to be more appealing? I’m an escaped prisoner!”

 

“Y’know I’m starting to have doubts about this plan,” Honjoong mutters.

 

“It’ll be fine,” Jongho assures him.

 

“I’m an escaped inmate, aren’t I appealing enough?” Yunho whines.

 

“Yell louder!” Wooyoung suggests. “They seem to be moving in little squads. They’re probably doing rounds - they’ll be back soon, Yunho.”

 

“Are you sure we can take out armed, trained blackcoats? In a group?”

 

“We have the element of surprise,” Jongho says. He creeps closer to the corner, venturing a peek around. “Anyways, you got a better plan?”

 

Yunho sighs,“That’s a fair point I-“

 

“We’ve got one!” A voice bellows from down the corridor.

 

“Oh, shit,” The humecanis mutters under his breath. The footsteps rumble down the hall like rolling thunder, and Yunho shoots the others down the hall a weary glance.

 

“Freeze!” “Stay right there!” “Hands in the air!”

 

“I- I can’t!” Yunho tries to respond, “I can’t my hands are, um-“

 

“Get on the ground!” “On the ground!” “Put your hands up, dog!”

 

The steps get closer and louder, and Yunho complies. Clumsily, he lowers himself onto the ground.

 

The guards hone in on Yunho, and he casts a nervous glance to the side.

 

“Wait for it,” Jongho mouths out. The others creep toward the corridor in anticipation. “Wait for it…”

 

It happens in an instant. A flash of black leather boots around the corner, barked orders and hollers. Then Choi Jongho, boy wonder, swoops in. Engaging in one of humanity’s most tried, true, and sophisticated combative maneuvers, he sticks his leg out and trips the rushing guards.

 

Nobody said the plan was _perfect_.

 

The ones in the hallway watch as half a dozen blackcoats stumble and fall on top of each other. Yunho scrambles back, falling onto his butt. Without hesitation, Jongho and Wooyoung jump out into the corridor.

 

Guards try to jump onto their feet, but they’re quickly subdued by a few swift fists to the head. Hongjoong’s always considered himself more of a lover than a fighter, so he lets the other two do the gritty work. Instead of beating up blackcoats, he opts to take Yunho’s side and make sure he’s alright.

 

“You find anything?” Jongho asks. He dodges a punch from a blackcoat who’d managed to get to their feet. Delivering a quick kick to the chest puts them back on the ground.

 

Wooyoung responds,“Lots of stuff-“ He elbows a blackcoat behind him, “-but no keycard. Not yet.” He’s grabbed from behind.

 

Another blackcoat scuttles away from the fray and starts talking into a transceiver on his coat, “Code orange! We’ve located the escaped inmates on the-“

 

_“Thwaak!”_

 

Jongho cuts him off with a strike to the throat.

 

Wooyoung grimaces,”There’s no way this is going unnoticed. We need to find something.” He throws down another officer, straddling them to search their pockets.

 

“What would the keys be made of?” Hongjoong yells above the rest of the insanity.

 

“How is that relevant?” Wooyoung asks, frantically slipping his hand into every little slot and pocket he can find.

 

“Just- just make a guess!” Joong commands.

 

Wooyoung rolls his eyes, “I- I dunno. Metal, maybe? Treated aluminum, something cheap and easy to replace in the event of key changes or- or- something.”

 

“Yunho! Can you smell any aluminum?” Hongjoong asks the humecanis.

 

“What?” “Can he what?!”

 

“Uh, I’d have to get closer,” Yunho says. “Can you cover me?”

 

“Do we have a choice?” Jongho asks rhetorically before tangling with a tall blackcoat.

 

Yunho nods and takes that as is cue. Maneuvering without use of his limbs is awkward, and he ends up adopting a sort of earthworm position - sliding himself along the ground.

 

The scene that plays out in front of Hongjoong is so, so far away from anything he’d ever thought he’d witness in his life. Blackcoats skirmish with Jongho and Wooyoung, throwing punches and whipping out their batons. It’s incredible to see the two make work of the squad. Galactic Coalition guards have military training. It’s clear they have a certain formula of attack - they know what they're doing.

 

Even so, Wooyoung handles them like a pro. It’s like he knows their every move before they make it. For every approach, every point of attack, he has a response. Then there’s Jongho - obviously unskilled - who has brute strength enough to take ten men. One punch from him sends three flying. Finally, there’s Yunho, slithering across the floor between the shuffling feet of fighting blackcoats.

 

Joong thinks he’d find it comedic if his life wasn’t literally on the line.

 

“Here!” Jongho hollers, yanking a dazed blackcoat by the collar. “Smell this guy!” He steps over to Yunho and presents the bloodied guard.

 

The humecanis gives his best attempt and sitting up and leans toward the blackcoat.

 

Wooyoung shoots a quick look at the hybrid and shakes his head skeptically,“Doesn’t this seem-“ He ducks to dodge an swinging baton, “-a little ridiculous to you guys?” He turns swiftly and delivers a stunning blow square on the guard’s nose.

 

Yunho wiggles up the blackcoat’s body he’d been presented with and sniffs vigilantly.

 

“I think escaping prison is inherently ridiculous,” Hongjoong responds, “Wh- To your left- on the floor!”

 

Wooyoung looks down to his left and sees another blackcoat reaching for a baton. A rough stomp to the chest stops that one in their tracks.

 

“Okay, but what are the odds of him actually sniffing out a keycard? I mean-“

 

“Hidden pocket inside, on the left!” Yunho hollers.

 

Wooyoung and Jongho look at the canis in disbelief. The youngest is the one who sticks his hand inside the blackcoat’s jacket, and his eyes go wide when he withdraws a metallic card.

 

“He’s good,” Hongjoong says with a proud grin.

 

Yunho beams,“Aw, thank you.”

 

“Yes, you’re a very good smeller,” Wooyoung says sarcastically, “Now let’s go!” He kicks a half-conscious blackcoat out of the way and heads back to the narrow hall.

 

Jongho throws the body he’d been holding up down and pulls Yunho onto his feet by his shirt.

 

“Emergency! Emergency! Code orange-“ The emergency message persistently drones on. Surely more blackcoats are headed their way, and Hongjoong isn’t eager to be around to greet him.

 

The group heads down the narrow hall, and Jongho taps the aluminum card against every door they past.

 

 _“Buzzt.”_ The locking mechanisms buzz, their lights flashing red with rejection.

 

_“Buzzt.” “Buzzt.” “Buzzt.”_

 

“Come on,” Wooyoung mutters through gritted teeth. Another squad of guards runs down the corridor behind them. They’re in for a surprise, Hongjoong thinks, but the inmates definitely can’t be around to watch it unfold. Whatever they’re saying on the emergency message is about to get worse.

 

_“Buzzt.” “Buzzt.” “Buzzt.”_

 

“What’re the chances this won’t lead anywhere?” Jongho asks worriedly after door number eight or nine. Joong can’t help wondering what’s behind all those doors. What does the Coalition need to keep all locked up inside of their prison? Are the people not enough? How did things get so complicated in such a short amount of time?

 

_“Buzzt.” “Buzzt.” “Buzzt.” “Beep-beep!”_

 

The confirmation chirp of a door unlocking pulls Hongjoong out of his contemplation. The escapees bolt in, reactivating the lock behind them.

 

For the first time since Jongho had kicked down the door, things feel quiet. The wailing sirens sound muffled behind the thick metal door, and the speaker parroting the emergency message is set to low volume. There’s no flashing lights or yelling guards.

 

It feels akin to calm.

 

Everyone takes a moment to catch their breath and wipe the sweat off their brows.

 

“Do you think there’s a way to get these off of me?” Yunho’s asks timidly when everyone had caught their breath.

 

“Uh, let’s see…” Jongho starts walking around the small room.

 

When he’s managed to slow his heartbeat a bit, Hongjoong gives the place a good look. It’s a small room, probably meant for one or two people at most. One side is full of screens - some security feed, others spitting out text, messages maybe. One dons a bright orange exclamation point. “Code Orange” - as the emergency bulletin says.

 

Wooyoung takes a seat at the computer console and starts tapping away at the keyboard. In the meanwhile, the rest of them try to find something to get Yunho out of his bondage. Jongho’s the first to find a cabinet he gets into, and he starts grabbing every remotely sharp instrument he can find and sawing at the bands.

 

“How long do you think this is gonna take?” Hongjoong asks, taking Wooyoung’s side at the console. He doesn’t even know where to look. Security feed from the entire floor flashes across half a dozen screens, and text skims across the other ones.

 

“I dunno. Few minutes maybe. I just have to get in somehow - figure out a password. Then we’re just hungry hogs in a data buffet.”

 

“Mmm. Food,” Hongjoong sighs. “I miss food.”

 

“You’re preaching to the choir,” Wooyoung says wistfully as he types furiously. “Steak. Fried chicken…”

 

“Fried chicken- yum! I- I can’t remember the last time I had fried chicken. Spaghetti-“

 

“Oh, _spaghetti_. That’s a good one. Shit, now I’m hungry.“

 

“Yeah, when we couldn’t afford meat as a kid, my mom would-“

 

_“Snaaaap-!”_

 

“Got it!” An excited Yunho interrupts the two drooling over food.

 

The pair look over to see Yunho happily waving his arms around next to Jongho who had, apparently, managed to cut him free with rudimentary scissors. Joong tries not to dwell on the kid's apparent super strength.

 

_“Ding!”_

 

Wooyoung’s attention turns back to the screen, “Got it!” He chirps.

 

Hongjoong looks up at the myriad screens, and the footage present quickly changes. It swaps over from hallways and patrols to different angles of a single, open place.

 

“This,” Wooyoung says, “Is our hangar. Anything look familiar?”

 

Joong studies the screens and gasps. There it is. His own little trash heap in a far corner of the hangar, covered in yellow tape. It looks every bit as shitty as it did when they’d left it on the Ambustio docking lot.

 

“That’s it!” Hongjoong gasps. “Where is it?”

 

“Gimme a second,” Wooyoung responds. He inputs a few other commands and a map pops up on one of the monitors. “Okay so it looks like we’re here - smack in the middle of the sixth floor. This hanger is on the far side of the third floor, so… We find an elevator here at the far corner, then we head down and grab your compass.”

 

“How are we gonna get out, though?” Yunho questions, squinting at the screen. “To be honest, I don’t think our junk heap can outrun the cops. Or anyone, really.”

 

“There’s a lot of ships there,” Wooyoung says, “Odds are one of them’s good enough to get us the hell out of dodge.”

 

“We’re gonna steal a ship?” Jongho’s mouth hangs open, scandalized.

 

“Wh- Yes, Jongho we are going to steal a ship!” Wooyoung throws his hands up. “Is that the line you’re drawing today? Breaking out of jail and beating up a bunch of blackcoats wasn’t that bad, but grand theft starship is your issue?”

 

The youngest pouts sheepishly,“Well, when you say it like that…”

 

“Everyone, quiet!” Yunho exclaims suddenly. The idle conversation dies in an instant. Yunho slowly tiptoes to the door and presses his ear to it. A quiet so silent falls over the room that even the faint buzz of the computer equipment sounds loud.

 

“They’re coming,” He whispers.

 

“Shit,” Wooyoung curses. “Shit- They know we’re in here?”

 

“Who’s to say this room isn’t being monitored, too?” Jongho comments.

 

“Sssh!” Hongjoong shushes the two. Hushedly, he inquires,“Yunho, are they close? What are they saying?  Are they onto us?”

 

Yunho holds up a finger to silence them, listening earnestly to the goings on beyond the door only he can hear.

 

“They’re getting closer,” Yunho whispers. “Nothing… Nothing specific. They’re still searching. They don’t know we’re in here, but… They’re gonna start looking inside these rooms- Shit.” He backs off and instructs the others, “Lights off and quiet, okay.”

 

Everyone nods in agreement, and Yunho hits the lights.

 

Then, they wait.

 

And wait and wait and wait.

 

It feels like forever, but only about a minute passes before the people with regular human hearing can pick something up. It’s the sound of boots against metal and muttered conversations, it’s hardly audible.

 

The steps come closer, they’re quick but not frenzied. Systemic. Like everything else in the damn jail.

 

Only the bluish light of the projected screens keeps them company.

 

 _“Thud. Thud. Thud.”_ Their boots hit the floor in a steady march.

 

Breath catches in Hongjoong’s throat. He doesn’t dare let it pass lest it make a sound. It’s unrealistic, he knows. There’s sirens and yelling and loud messages on the intercom. How would anyone hear them behind the layers layers of metal and fiber?

 

_“Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud-“_

 

They stop.

 

The footsteps stop, and for an instant everyone is on edge. Nerves start crawling beneath Hongjoong’s skin like restless spiders, their tiny legs tickling and needling.

 

Why are they just standing there?

 

What are they doing?

 

Are they slacking or something?

 

Hongjoong wants to ask Yunho what the hell they're talking about, but he can’t. There’s a massive lump of worry lodged in his throat blocking anything from coming out.

 

_“Thud. Thud. Thud…”_

 

The footsteps depart, and the veil of tension wrapped tightly around the crowd lifts.

 

Hongjoong breathes a sigh of a relief, letting the tension flood out of him.

 

It’s okay, he tells himself.

 

Everything is going to be okay.

 

The Compass, your companions…

 

It’s all going to be okay.

 

After repeating the mantra in his head a few times, he feels assured enough to speak.

 

“We need to move. _Stat_.”

 

* * *

 

Yunho waves the other three over as the sneak down another corridor. Through the power of stealth and Jongho’s persuasive methods (ie: punching) they managed to get to the lift with little incident. Unfortunately, with every bit of progress they make toward the hangar, they get that much more attention.

 

The sirens are ceaseless, and squads of guards pass by with more frequency. Barked orders echo down the hall as the three exit the elevator. They cling to the a shadowy spot on a nearby wall to collect themselves.

 

“Okay,” Wooyoung whispers, “Um- The hanger is down the corridor, we take the second right then it’s a straight shot.”

 

“Yunho, you hear anything?” Hongjoong asks.

 

“Um… Footsteps. Orders being given. A lot of footsteps. Our trip to the hangar is pretty straightforward. I dunno if we really have any places to hide.”

 

“Then we book it,” Hongjoong says. “We run to the hangar and work fast. Jongho can work as a buffer to stave them off. I can run and grab the Compass, you guys work on procuring an escape vessel.”

 

“How do we know they won’t have this place in lockdown by the time that happens?” Jongho asks. “I mean, when we get a ship, how are we gonna get out?”

 

Hongjoong exchanges anxious looks with Yunho and Wooyoung.

 

“We’ll figure it out,” He says with finality. Jongho rolls his eyes but doesn’t protest. He’s in too deep at this point - they all are. Thinking on the fly has gotten them down to the third level in one piece. Hongjoong figures that’s gotta mean something.

 

“Okay, after the next patrol squad passes, we run,” The leader instructs.

 

They bide their time, waiting for the telltale footsteps to pass by. Nobody dares crane their neck too far, but in their peripherals they can see the black uniformed silhouettes.

 

Yunho, now in front of the pack, waves for everyone to go, and they follow at his heels. Surely surveillance is picking them up right now, but they hardly have time to care. They know their next move, the blackcoats don’t - that’s their one advantage.

 

Sticking as close to the walls as possible, they start their journey down the hall. The third floor is different than where they’d been. There’s no cells lining the halls, no security stations or even storage closets.

 

There’s nowhere to hide.

 

It’s a fairly easy shot, straight one way, a quick turn then straight from there. That means it’s not a matter of if they’re found but _when_ \- and how fast can they get away.

 

 _“Zzzt!”_ A hot, crackling bolt of light zips past Hongjoong’s ear, and his heart drops. No, he thinks, it’s too soon.

 

Not yet.

 

“Freeze!” Joong doesn’t bother looking back. He knows the blackcoats are on their tail, and there’s only one thing left to do.

 

“Run!” Hongjoong hollers.

 

 _“ZZzzt! Zzzt!”_ More bolts fly past them. Hongjoong prays that they’re stunning bolts and not killing ones. He sure as hell doesn’t want to check.

 

 _“Zzzt! Zzzt!”_ “Freeze!” “We have orders to subdue you by any means necessary.” _“Zzzzt!”_ “Stop!” _“Zzzt!”_

 

The four bolt down the corridor, shoes squeaking against the polished floor as they take the corner. There’s only one way to go when they turn: forward. Down the hall Hongjoong can see the massive door to the collection hangar. Guards mill about, moving carts back and forth - probably collecting evidence.

 

 _“Zzzt!” “Zzzzt!”_ “Stop!” “Stop them!” _“Zzzt!”_

 

“It’s a good fucking thing these guys are terrible shots,” Wooyoung says breathily as they sprint toward the hangar.

 

“Don’t jinx it!” Hongjoong fires back.

 

 _“Zzzzt!”_ “Emergency! Emergency! Escaped inmates located on floor three, section two! Code orange! Code orange!” _“Zzzt!”_ “Freeze!” “Somebody get them!”

 

Guards who had previously been minding their own business are quickly alerted of the incoming inmates. They drop their carts and whip out their shooters. The barrels of the little black guns light up with life, aimed down the hall at the four targets bounding toward them.

 

“You know, maybe we should’ve grabbed some weapons off of the guys we knocked out-” Jongho ducks to the side, “-or like uniforms.”

 

“Now’s not the time to talk about our regrets!” Hongjoong huffs.

 

Jongho hollers,“I’m just saying we could’ve thought this out be-” _“ZZzzzt!”_ “-Aaah!”

 

“Shit- He’s hit!” For a moment, just a moment, Hongjoong stops. His body practically topples over his feet with the abruptness of the movement - but there’s no time. “Jongho are you okay?”

 

“I just got shot- what do _you_ think?”

 

“W-Well you’re not dead- shit,” Hongjoong looks to one side - where they came from - and the other - where they’re headed. From both, squads of guards close in on them, guns raised as they shout loud orders.

 

“We’ve got him!” “Emegergency! Emergency! Inmates-” “Keep your hands in the air!” “There’s nowhere for them to run-”

 

There’s probably more than a dozen of them, advancing in formation. They look more like monsters than humans - a bunch of black legs moving in formation like some giant millipede, all while their shouts overlap to the point of illegibility.

 

“I think it’s a stunner. Just grazed me,” Jongho says through gritted teeth. He grimaces in an attempt to stand up. “Ow- My leg-”  


“I’ve got him,” Yunho says. He squats down in front of Jongho, “Quick. Get on.”

 

“Wh-”

 

“Hurry!” The canis barks. Jongho does as he says and latches onto Yunho’s back.

 

“Desist! Desist!” A blackcoat orders the group. “You’re surrounded!”

 

“Fuck- Joong, what do we do?” Yunho asks as he hoists Jongho up.

 

Hongjoong’s heart pounds in his chest like a drum. He rapidly searches the corridor for anything they can use - anything. They’re not far from the hangar, but far enough that making a break for it isn’t a good idea. Trying to be quick and maneuver around the neatly organized rows of guards won’t work either, they’ll be too fast.

 

Think, Hongjoong, he urges himself.

 

Think.

 

Think.

 

“Put your hands up!” The blackcoat hollers again.

 

Hongjoong looks up. There’s a vent, but that won’t do them any good. He bites his lower lip, anxiety spreading through his body like venom with each passing second. Wooyoung catches his gaze, and he mouths something out:

 

“Get a gun.”

 

Joong’s face scrunches with confusion - how the hell does Wooyoung expect him to do that?! He starts to wonder about the guy. Apparent hacker, experienced fighter and - what - sharpshooter, too? No wonder he was brought in; the more Hongjoong gets to know him, the more dangerous he seems. That being said, he’s never been more grateful to be in the company of somebody dangerous. It’s not like dangerous means _bad_ or even mean, right? And they’re running out of options.

 

The question is: how?

 

It's paper thin, but a plan runs through Joong's head. He considers the possible outcomes and decides: it's his best shot at getting them out alive.

 

Hongjoong nods to Wooyoung before turning to Yunho and Jongho. He hopes his expression says “I sort of have a plan” and not “we’re all gonna die”.

 

“On the ground, now!”

 

“Guys,” Hongjoong says, “Let’s do what they say.”

 

Yunho whimpers,“But-”

 

“But nothing, Yunho. They’ve got guns pointed at us.”

 

“Get on the ground and put your hands up!” The blackcoat hollers.

 

“Hongjoong-”

 

“Just _do it_ ,” The leader commands. Dejectedly, Yunho follows the order, slowly lower himself onto his knees with Jongho slung over his back. Everyone squats down except leader Joong himself. He stands confidently, eyes not leaving the apparent leader of the little blackcoat squad.

 

“I said get down-”

 

Hongjoong makes a quick move to stick his hand in his jacket. The clicking of about twenty guns being cocked follows - no doubt all of them trained on him. He remains steadfast.

 

“Get down or we will shoot-”

 

“You sure you wanna do that?” Hongjoong argues. He’s bluffing. He’s beyond bluffing - but they don’t know that. People smuggle stuff into prison all the time, right? As far as they know, he could be armed and dangerous.

 

“He’s armed.” “Does he have a weapon?” “How’d he get a weapon in here?” A few mutters break out in the crowd of homogenized disciplinarians.

 

“We’ve got you surrounded! Put your hands up-”

 

“You think I give a shit?” Hongjoong lets out a laugh. “I’ve got nothing to lose. What’re you gonna do? Arrest me? Put me in jail?” He taunts them. He can see a few of the blackcoats tense, but nobody moves yet.

 

Of course they don’t.

 

They can’t wipe their asses without an order, let alone neutralize a criminal. For once, Hongjoong appreciates the bureaucracy.

 

“You don’t wanna do that son-”

 

“I’m not your son,” Hongjoong snarls.

 

“Listen, kid, I’m a better shot than you. You think you can pull that trigger before you’re stunned?”

 

“Who says it’s a gun?”

 

“What does he mean?” “Emergency! Emergency! Escaped inmates…” “Chief, permission to open fire.” “What the hell does he have, a knife?” “Emergency! Emergency…”

 

The “chief” blackcoat tries to regain control,“Sir, you have ten seconds to-”

 

“I detonate this thing, and you’re gonna have a whole lot more to worry about than just four escaped prisoners.”

 

“He’s got a bomb?” “Did he just say detonate?” “Does he have a bomb?” The panel of underling blackcoats talk among themselves. Hongjoong feels like an air of smugness is appropriate for the charade, but he tries to make sure he’s not laughing too much. Do they really believe him?

 

The chief lowers his gun hesitantly for an instant, “Son, you don’t want to do that-”

 

“I think I do!” Hongjoong shouts. “And I told you already. I’m _not_ your _fucking son_.”

 

“Don’t do anything brash, now. We can make a deal - just keep your hand off that detonator.”

 

“Fine, let’s make a deal. Let these three go and take me,” Hongjoong nods to the others.

 

“Hongjoong, no!” Yunho whispers panickedly with his tail between his legs. Joong gives him an insistent look, urging him to go along with it.

 

The chief nods, “We can arrange that.” He sheaths his gun too readily. He’s bullshitting.

 

There’s no way they’d just let three escaped inmates walk away easily. Hongjoong guesses he’ll play nice until the exact moment he doesn’t have to anymore - whenever they disarm the “detonator”. “Now, I’ll let your buddies go, but you’re gonna have to give the detonator over. Set it on the ground and put your hands up.”

 

“See, the thing about this device is that it’s… Real touchy,” Hongjoong says. “Putting it on the ground will probably blow a hole in the sixth floor. Wouldn’t recommend shooting me, either, so… How about I put my hands up, and one of your lovely friends over there can _very delicately_ grab it themselves.”

 

The chief scowls, “It’d be in your best interest not to try anything funny.”

 

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Hongjoong says. Slowly, he takes his hand out of his jacket and puts them up. “My hands will stay right here.”

 

With a huff, the leader of the squad turns to a nearby junior. He gruffly delivers an order, and another officer carefully strides forward. Hongjoong glances over his shoulder toward Wooyoung, locking gazes with the other. Wooyoung slowly creeps forward, closer to Hongjoong, and he flashes a thumbs up down by the ground, where nobody else would notice.

 

The blackcoat underling starts roughly pawing at Hongjoong when he reaches him. He methodically gropes up the inmate’s sides and down his legs. The thoroughness of it all makes Hongjoong cringe, and he wants nothing more than his glorified molestation to be over. The officer finally sticks a hand inside Hongjoong’s jacket and feels around for a detonator. He sticks his hands inside every pocket and even the holes in the lining, fishing around for the device.

 

When he doesn’t find it, he glowers at Hongjoong and demands, “Where is it?”

 

“Where is what?” Hongjoong sasses.

 

“Where’s the detonator?”

 

“What detonator?”

 

“The detonator you-”

 

_“Thuud!”_

 

Hongjoong reels back a bit. He’d never headbutted anyone before and, damn, does it hurt. Everything happens fast after that. Wooyoung bursts up from his spot on the floor and yanks the officer’s gun out of his holster. Yunho jumps up, repositioning Jongho and turning on to run. Chaos ensues.

 

“Shoot him!” “He was bluffing!”

 

 _“Zzzt! Zzzt! Zzzzt!”_ Wooyoung’s shots are fast and true. Joong wonders why the hell the guy knows how to shoot a GC standard issue multipistol so well, but he supposes that’s a story for another time. With everyone distracted and Wooyoung armed, the quad makes a break for the hangar.

 

“Good shot!” Hongjoong says to Wooyoung as they break out into a sprint. The hangar is so close. So, so close. Hongjoong can see the outlines of ships through the glass.

 

Wooyoung looks over his shoulder, nailing blackcoats one after the other as they run,“Yeah, thanks- fuck!” Laser bolts fly past them left and right.

 

“Okay, you guys find something - anything - that we can get out of here with. I’ll get the Compass,” Hongjoong instruction. Unfortunately, there’s not exactly time for a team huddle or even a nod of confirmation.

 

The automatic door to the hangar slides open, and they split.

 

Joong vaguely remembers the far corner that his ship is in and heads off in that direction. The others follow Wooyoung’s lead, frantically searching for something starworthy.

 

 _“Zzzt!” “Zzzt!”_ Lasers discharge left and right, and the sirens somehow manage to be even louder in the hangar. The emergency bulletin changes, more urgent than ever:

 

“Emergency! Emergency! Code orange! Four dangerous inmates in the section two hangar. They are armed and dangerous. Officers authorized to set lasers to malignant. Code orange! Code orange!”

 

Blackcoats flood the hangar in their wake, an amalgam of bellowing anger, set on subjugation.

 

Hongjoong darts behind ships left and right, using his small frame to the best of his benefit. Blackcoats charge by in droves, yelling orders as they pass. Hongjoong scans the hangar. It’s massive and open, even with all the ships parked. Some look like his - cobbled together with welding and hope. Others are more sinister looking. There’s courier ships modded to hell and back with weapons and luxurious staryachts that were no doubt purchased with dirty money. Joong knows a bit about ships, but he’s more of a pilot than anything.

 

He hopes Wooyoung is having better luck than him trying to figure out which one is the best to steal.

 

* * *

 

“What about that one?” Yunho asks, pointing to a gigantic cruiser to their left.

 

“That looks like a cruise ship,” Jongho remarks, shaking his head. “I don’t know shit about ships, but that looks way too big for us.”

 

Wooyoung peeks around the corner. The three of them had found a nook between a propulsor and the hull of a ship to hide. Blackcoats are everywhere, and with each minute that goes by, more are on the scene. They have to move fast, but the problem is breaking into ship isn’t exactly easy. He’d hoped to have found one early in the process, but so far no dice. He feels like he’d stepped into a shop five minutes before close and the employees are breathing down his neck.

 

Except the employees want to kill him.

 

“We need something small, fast, and hardy,” Wooyoung says. “But it’s gotta go the distance, too. It’s gotta be able to jump.”

 

“What about that one?” Jongho asks, pointing to the far wall opposite of them. Wooyoung follows the other’s finger with a quirked eyebrow. A neat row of uniform ships lines the far wall. They’re different from everything else, isolated and clean. There’s a few different classes: combat freighters and miniature shooters alongside multipurpose explorers and police cruisers.

 

Wooyoung realizes, “Those aren’t confiscated. They’re GC ships.”

 

“So?” Jongho asks.

 

“So their security’s gonna be ten times harder to crack than any of these guys.”

 

“But they’ll have everything we need,” Yunho says. “They’re well maintained and probably capable of far travel. None of them look too big, and they’ve gotta be armed.”

 

Wooyoung purses his lips and furrows his brows, “You’re not wrong…”

 

“Do you think you can do it?” Jongho asks.

 

“Hm?”

 

“Do you think you can get into one of those things?”

 

“Wh- Can I get into one of those things?” Wooyoung scoffs. “Of course I can! I mean- it’ll take a second, but-”

 

“But what? Let’s pick one and run!”

 

“Okay! Fine, fine! I just- Let’s see…”

 

“How about that one?” Yunho gestures toward a combat freighter toward the middle of the row. It’s a Rattlesnake - a mid-sized combat freighter class. There’s a bit of a sacrifice for cargo space, but the payoff is amped up combat capability. They’re usually used to transport supplies to dangerous zones, stuff like munitions or medicine. Dark paint spells out the ID along the side of the ship: “KQ F3LL4Z”.

 

“That… That’ll work. Good eye,” Wooyoung says. “We’ll have to stick to cover as long as we possibly can.”

 

It’s a long, open journey to the freighter. They’ll be seen, for sure.

 

“Jongho, how’s your leg feeling?” Yunho asks the other who’s still on his back.

 

“Um, it’s weird. Sorta numb, but I think it’s okay. I should be able to walk on it. That’ll probably be easier,” Jongho slides off of the other and tests the waters. He pulls a pained face as he shifts his weight from one leg to the other.

 

“We need to be fast,” Yunho replies. “It’s okay if you need me to carry you.”

 

Jongho shakes his head, “No. I think I can do this. I don’t wanna slow anyone down.”

 

“You sure?”

 

“Positive.”

 

“Alright. Let’s go.”

 

The trio scampers over to the nearest ship for cover. Yunho keeps an eye on Jongho while Wooyoung watches ahead. For at least a little bit,things go relatively smoothly. Panicked insanity reigns around them - blackcoats swarm the place like a plague, and the sirens scream over the loudspeakers. Yet, so far, they’ve managed to evade it. The hangar is big, and there’s a lot more ground for the blackcoats to cover. Wooyoung hopes that’ll keep their heads above water - at least for the most part.

 

“D’you think Joong’s gotten to the ship yet?” Yunho asks.

 

“Well, I haven’t heard any announcements about an inmate being ‘neutralized’, so there’s that,” Wooyoung sighs. He hopes Hongjoong’s okay. He hardly knows the guy, but something about him inspires trust. Security even. He seems like a genuinely good person in a world of people that Wooyoung has come to realize are rotten.

 

Good people are worth protecting. They’re worth serving and they’re even worth dying for.

 

Of course, he doesn’t plan on dying any time soon.

 

* * *

 

Sweat drops down Hongjoong’s nape as he squeezes underneath the jet of a close by ship. He swallows nervously, watching as rows of uniformed feet march past him. It eats him up not knowing what how the others are doing. Have they found a ship? Have they managed to reach it? Is Yunho okay with all the noise? What about Jongho’s leg?

 

No, he tells himself. It’s time to focus.

 

Joong eyes his junky ship in the distance. There don’t seem to be any blackcoats in the area yet, but his view isn’t good from under a massive jet . He tries to calculate how long it’ll take him to get there. Thirty seconds of sprinting? Forty? There’s no way it’ll take him more than a minute - but that’s not accounting for people chasing him. He might have to take a detour to shake them, but then they’ll be on his tail.

 

What if he gets hit?

 

The emergency bulletin is a constant reminder:

 

“Officers are authorized to set lasers to malignant.”

 

That’s a dressed up way of saying they’re allowed to hurt them now. _Bad_. A lucky person might lose a limb or bleed to death hit with a malignant laser. Unlike lethal ones that just kill instantly, malignant ones maim.

 

Guess the Coalition’s a _little bit_ angry.

 

Hongjoong figures he would be too if his highly sophisticated armed forces had gotten outsmarted by a few prisoners. Of course, it’s not time to be gloating, he thinks. They haven’t made it out _yet_.

 

When another squadron passes, Hongjoong takes the opportunity to run. He slips out from under the bulky jet and goes full speed toward his familiar heap. Miraculously, he manages to evade detection in doing so - it seems like the GC’s guards aren’t the most efficient, and there’s lots of little hiding spots.

 

Joong doesn’t hesitate, activating the manual release for the ramp.

 

That’s when he gets their attention.

 

“He’s trying to get into his ship!” A blackcoat in the distance hollers.

 

“Shit,” Hongjoong curses. He lowers the loading ramp just enough for him to hop up and slide in. He can hear the rumble of boots against the floor stampeding toward him. Nerves jostle violently inside his chest as his senses kick into overdrive. Poisonous anxiety surges through his veins, and his breathing speeds up almost dangerously. One thought prevails in his head in that moment:

 

Get Compass and get out.

 

Joong stumbles and bumps into everything as he dashes through the cramped quarters. He races up the steps from the cargo hold into the common area and past those to the bridge.

 

“Please be here, please be here, please be here,” He whispers to himself, frantically searching for his sacred Compass. “Where are you?” Head darting around manically, Joong finally manages to find the thing underneath the copilot’s seat - it must’ve fallen down when the police moved the ship.

 

Hongjoong cradles the thing like a long lost child, relief washing over him, “Oh thank god- thank god you’re here.”

 

“Kim Hongjoong, exit the vessel and surrender!” A muffled voice shouts in the distance.

 

“Wh-” The captain rushes to look out the bridge, and his jaw drops.

 

He’s surrounded.

 

“Shit,” He curses.

 

“Exit the ship or we will enter forcibly and apprehend you!” One of the blackcoats outside the ship yells.

 

* * *

 

Wooyoung waves Jongho and Yunho over to some more cover. They’ve just about run out of it, and soon they’ll have no choice but to run through open hangar. Wooyoung prays for a miracle that they don’t get caught.

 

“He’s in the ship!” A blackcoat on the other side of their cover says. Wooyoung, Jongho and Yunho exchange baffled looks.

 

“The inmate’s been identified as Kim Hongjoong. Looks like he’s trying to escape in his ship!” “Let’s go!” “Far left corner of the hangar.” “Yes, sir!”

 

Wooyoung’s not sure if Hongjoong being spotted is a miracle, but it’s probably the closest thing he’s gonna get.

 

“Let’s go,” He leads the charge toward their mark.

 

“Holy shit, Joong actually got into his ship,” Jongho says with awe.

 

“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean he’s gonna get out. We need to get over there fast,” Wooyoung replies.

 

“I just hope the Compass is still there,” Yunho murmurs.

 

The three make it about half the distance without incident, but even with Hongjoong being distracting, they stick out in the midst of the chaos.

 

“Hey, you! Where are you going?!” A blackcoat hollers. “They’re headed toward our ships!” “Don’t let them get away!” “After them!”

 

“How many of these guys are there?” Jongho groans. His face contorts with discomfort from his own injury, but he powers through it, matching the others’ pace.

 

“Hey! Who says they all have to be guys,” Yunho remarks.

 

Wooyoung rolls his eyes, “Are you two serious now? This is not the time to-”

 

 _“Zzzt!”_ A laser bolt shoots past them. For an instant, the searing heat registers right next to Wooyoung’s ear. It’s way too close for comfort.

 

Wooyoung turns halfway to shoot over his shoulder. He nails a couple of the blackcoats, but taking one out is like beheading the hydra. When one falls, two are already taking his place.

 

 _“Zzzt- Zzzzzt!”_ “Shit-” Wooyoung gasps. A bolt lands right next to his foot, and his body lurches. Before he knows it, he’s tumbling, and for a second Wooyoung thinks it’s really the end. By the time he gets up from eating metal and dirt, he’ll be surrounded. He clings to his gun with a vice grip - his last line of defense. Even if he’s caught, maybe the others can get out. It’s not usually his MO to care so much about strangers, but they’d sworn to stick together. Above all else, he’s a man of his word.

 

Wooyoung waits for the blackcoats to swarm him, but it doesn’t happen.

 

Instead, a powerful force takes hold of him and drags his body toward the ship. For a second Wooyoung really believes in miracles, but then he sees his saviour: Choi Jongho. Jongho holds a fistful of Wooyoung’s furry collar and trudges forward. The kid’s small, but he drags the other man along like a ragdoll.

 

“Shit- thanks man,” Wooyoung lets out an anxious breath he didn’t even know he was holding.

 

_“ZZzt!” “Zzzt!” “Zzzt!”_

 

Bolts still shot toward them, and Wooyoung remembers that he’s still got a gun. As ridiculous as it looks, he returns fire while Jongho continues to drag him.

 

“There it is!” Yunho yells to the other two.

 

Wooyoung glances over his shoulder and sees the Diamondback just paces ahead. He opens his mouth to say something, but suddenly the same force that had been dragging him sends him flying in the air.

 

Jongho had thrown him toward the boarding controls. He’d actually thrown the man. Wooyoung lets out a yelp as he hits the ground. He scrambles to his feet to get started on the break-in.

 

“Here!” He says, absentmindedly tossing the gun, “Cover me.”

 

Jongho catches it first (just barely),“Wh- You take the gun!” He throws it to Yunho.

 

“Huh- O-okay!” Yunho fumbles with it awkwardly.

 

“Step away from the ship!” A blackcoat leader bellows. His squad fans out behind him - about ten of them in a wide row. Wooyoung frenziedly taps away at the boarding PC while the other two stare the blackcoats down.

 

“No, _you_ step away from the ship!” Yunho demands, brandishing his gun.

 

“You’re holding it backwards,” Jongho blurts out.

 

“Huh?”

 

“The gun it’s- how are you holding a gun backwards? You’re gonna kill yourself.”

 

“I don’t know,” Yunho shrugs exasperatedly. “I’m not a gun guy, do I look like a gun guy? I can barely hear myself think, and everything smells really weird and chemical-y, so forgive me if I can’t-”

 

“Wait- Yunho watch out-!”

 

“-figure out how to- oof!” Two officers barrel toward the humecanis and tackle him to the ground. Jongho makes a move to help Yunho with his struggle, but more blackcoats charge toward him. The youngest makes quick work of the officers stupid enough to get in hand-to-hand range. All the while, Yunho wrestles with the two on top of him.

 

“Use the gun!” Jongho shouts at Yunho.

 

Yunho wriggles beneath his attackers and manages to wrench his arm free. He looks at the weapon dubiously and grips the barrel.

 

_“Thwak! Thwak! Thwak!”_

 

The solid metal of the grip makes for a decent bludgeon.

 

“That is _not_ what I meant!” Jongho gapes. Critique aside, the idea works, and Yunho manages to free himself from the two on top of him.

 

“It worked, didn’t it?” Yunho replies. “Hey, Wooyoung, how much longer on the boarding?”

 

“I’m lowering the ramp… Now!” Wooyoung answers. “Get out of the way.”

 

 _“Whirrrr…”_ Yunho and Jongho scuttle out of the ramp’s way to let it descend.

 

“Everybody, in!” Wooyoung yells when it’s low enough for them to hop on. The other two do just that, and soon they’re all scrambling to get inside. Unfortunately, they’re not the only ones.

 

“Blackcoats at your six!” Wooyoung warns them.

 

“Shit- We’ll hold them off, here,” Yunho hollers back, kicking at an officer who’d climbed in after him, “You get in there and get this thing airborne.”

 

A few more blackcoats hop onto the ramp for the chase. They’re a choir of loud demands and derogatory curses.

 

“Yunho, Jongho,” Wooyoung hollers at the two before disappearing into the vessel. “When I get this thing flying, I’m gonna head straight for Hongjoong.”

 

“Okay.” “Yes, sir.” The two reply between punches and kicks toward onboarding officers.

 

“What I’m telling you is: hold on.”

 

With that, Wooyoung races into the ship to make good on the promise he’d made.

 

* * *

 

_“Zzzt! Zzzt!” “Crack- crack-” “Zzzt!”_

 

Lasers hit the surface of the ship like little splinters. Perhaps on a normal ship, Hongjoong wouldn’t worry about the hull wearing away or the cockpit glass splintering. But he’s not on a normal ship, he’s on his ship. It’s only a matter of time before they either seize the thing or destroy it from the outside. He’s running out of time.

 

“Kim Hongjoong, get out of the ship now.”

 

Hongjoong chews on his lower lip anxiously. He hugs the Compass to his chest for dear life, trying to think of a plan. Something, anything. The second he gets out, he’ll have about fifty scopes pointed straight at him - and those are the ones he knows about. He’s pretty sure he’s pissed them off to the point that they’ll shoot first, ask questions later (if at all). On the other hand, staying put is essentially a death sentence. Even the little handheld guns are starting to eat away at the ship’s hull.

 

With a deep breath, he makes the call:

 

He’s gonna get out.

 

He doesn’t know how - not yet - but he’s gonna get off of the ship without them noticing. That’s the only way, he thinks. It’s the only chance he has of meeting the others at their ship and getting the hell out of that place.

 

_“Whiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiz- bang!!”_

 

A whistle followed by a loud bang. Then, an explosion. Hongjoong screams, cowering under his captain’s chair. He hears yells outside his ship but doesn’t dare move. His inference is that they’ve decided to resort to heavy firepower to bust a hole in his ship (as if it’s necessary). Joong shudders, effortfully trying to hold himself together. He squeezes his eyes shut and labors to steady his erratic breathing. Any second now, he thinks, any second now and I’m gonna get blown up.

 

It’s all over, he laments.

 

It’s all over.

 

...Right?

 

Hongjoong pops an eye open wearily, then the other. He hears sounds - loud ones - a caterwaul of violent chaos filters in through the hull of his ship. But… That’s on the outside. Hongjoong takes a look around and realizes: he’s still alone. Nobody’s broken in yet.

  
So… What was it he heard?

 

The captain stands up cautiously and sneaks a look out past the bridge window. His eyes blow wide open, and his jaw drops.

 

All hell has broken loose.

 

Blackcoats run in every direction, screaming their heads off. They direct their lasers not at Hongjoong’s ship - but above themselves. Joong follows their fire and finds the source of the insanity. It’s a ship - a compact freighter, from first glance. For a second, it doesn’t add up to Hongjoong. He wonders why the hell there’s a combat freighter unleashing micro missiles onto the forces below. Then, he notices that the loading ramp is lowered. Two figures hang on for dear life in the open mouth of the freighter, one of which has a tail.

 

“They got a ship,” Hongjoong utters in amazement. “They- they got a ship!” Relief and excitement overwhelms him, and melts back into the captain’s chair from the alleviation. It doesn’t last long, though. Reinvigorated by the others’ efforts, he moves. He finds the most secure bag he can find and stuffs the Compass inside it, strapping it as snugly to himself as possible before going.

 

The second Hongjoong reenters the loading bay, he can hear the pandemonium. Laser bolts are flying in every direction, and squads of blackcoats are barking orders. They run like a swarm of startled animals all in one direction. The only thing that parts the wave of bodies is the incoming lasers from the ship above.

 

Joong is basically forgotten.

 

Taking a deep breath, Hongjoong slides off of the loading ramp into the fray. He takes a few steps before being noticed, then they’re on him.

 

“Kim Hongjoong! Seize Kim Hongjoong!” A blackcoat somewhere behind him squawks. Hongjoong opts to ignore them. He’s got his eyes on one thing: the freighter with his allies hanging off of it.

 

 _“Zzzt!” “Zzzt!”_ “Emergency! Emergency-” _“Whooooo-” “Zzzt!”_ “Get him!” “The ship-” “Fan out!” “We need backup in hanger two-!” _“Zzzt!” “Bang!”_

 

It’s absolute madness.

 

The floating freighter lurches a bit before slowly moving toward Hongjoong. They lower the ramp further, and Hongjoong races toward it. An unfortunate consequence of lowering the ramp is the fact that blackcoats can hop on, too. They don’t hesitate, doing their best to climb up and hold on tight.

 

It doesn’t matter, Hongjoong thinks.

 

They can be taken care of later. His priority is actually getting on.

  


“Hongjoong!” Jongho somehow yells over everything. In spite of the ship’s unsteady gait, he steps down the ramp carefully (kicking a few blackcoats on the way). The kid grabs an actuator in one hand and extends the other, hanging off of the edge of the ramp. “Take my hand!”

 

Hongjoong huffs and puffs as he tries to catch up with the freighter. All the while Yunho tries to fend off the officers clamoring onto the thing. Joong reaches out to take Jongho’s hand, but he can’t quit reach. He leaps again.

 

A miss.

 

“Fucking genetics,” He curses his stature as he hops again. Jongho strains every muscle in his body trying to hold on while extending as far as possible.

 

“Kim Hongjoong, you’re under arrest!” A blackcoat shouts at the leader. Joong lets out a surprised scream as a titanic looking soldier charges toward him. Then he realizes: he can use this.

 

Waiting until the very last second, Hongjoong times his jump so he can at least clear the guy’s legs. His foot lands on the blackcoat’s arms, and he scrambles to use the guy like a staircase. That last bit of height is all he needs, and Jongho snatches him out of the air.

 

Hongjoong is practically flung onto the ship. He hugs the Compass close as he flies through the air. For an instant, everything seems to move in slow motion.

 

His life has turned into utter and complete madness in a period of twenty-four hours.

 

Laser bolts whiz through the air and plumes of flame billow up from the floor. Everyone and everything seems to be yelling - from distressed blackcoats to drone security announcements. Jongho’s running into the loading bay as the ramp recedes, and Yunho’s kicking away soldiers.

 

Hongjoong’s body careens into the loading bay, landing with a thud. Jongho rolls in, and the ramp shuts shortly thereafter.

 

For the first time in hours, things feel quiet. Sure, just outside the fortified hull of the combat freighter there’s an apocalypse unfolding, but inside, it’s nice and muted.

 

Hongjoong’s entire body hurts. He’d been in pain since getting himself into a junkslide, but the pure adrenaline had kept him going until now. It’s not until he truly has a second to just lay down does it dawn on him. Ouch.

 

“Oh my god,” Hongjoong lets out a wheezy cough. “Did that just happen?” He splays out on the floor.

 

“We’re all here and alive,” Jongho says. “We’re _all here and alive._ ” He repeats himself like he needs to assure it’s real.

 

“H-Hey, guys? Is this thing on?” A crackly static voice filters through an intercom. Hongjoong jumps up out of reflexive panic, then he realizes that the voice is familiar.

 

“Wooyoung?” Joong asks out loud even though he doesn’t know if the other can hear him.

 

“Oh, good, it is working,” Wooyoung’s voice sounds relieved. “Hongjoong, is that you?”

 

“Y-yeah. Yeah I’m alive.”

 

“Well, good. Come to the bridge when you can- it’s up the stairs and down the middle hallway. Up another set of stairs and a straight shot- or is it to the left? Y’know what, you’ll find it.” _“Click.”_ The intercom dies.

 

“Oh, god, everything hurts,” Hongjoong winces as he tries to sit up. “Is, um, is everyone okay?” He asks, looking from Yunho to Jongho.

 

“My leg’s still kinda numb, but I’m fine,” Jongho responds.

 

Yunho nods, “I’m okay. Tired. Headache. Hungry.”

 

“Okay,” Hongjoong says. “Let’s head up to the bridge. Yunho, you’re a good pilot. Why don’t you pilot and let Wooyoung free up his hands for his… Weird techy voodoo magic.”

 

“Yes, sir,” Yunho accepts obediently.

 

After a few more minutes of stillness, the three finally muster the energy to move. They follow Wooyoung’s directions and, after a few wrong turns, end up in the freighter’s bridge.

 

Hongjoong’s jaw drops. Perhaps to a regular person, a Diamondback is nothing special. It’s not exactly a popular or widely used model of ship. It’s basically reserved for military use only, and it lacks the luxuries that a lot of transporational cruisers or more sophisticated combat ships use.

 

Compared to Joong and Yunho’s old ship, it’s a palace.

 

The bridge is beautiful and pristine, the control console curving prettily in front of the domed window. In the center of the room stands a console of sorts - navigational, Hongjoong thinks. The dark leather seats positioned in front of the piloting console don’t even have a single hole. In spite of the hellfire reigning just outside the window, Hongjoong wants to explore every nook and cranny of the ship.

 

“Here, lemme help,” Yunho offers, taking the copilot’s seat next to Wooyoung. That brings Hongjoong back to reality, and he starts working on their next problem to solve.

 

“Okay. We’ve gotta think of a way to get out of here,” He gestures toward the closed hangar door in front of them. “Don’t suppose they’re gonna open that for us.”

 

“Nope, don’t think so,” Wooyoung says. He taps a few buttons on the control console and projected screens pop up one after the other.

 

“This ship’s nice, by the way,” Hongjoong comments. “Good job grabbing it.”

 

“Yeah, it’s, um, one of theirs, so-” Wooyoung types all the while, “-I need to disable their tracking. Not to mention overriding their defaults and lifting their restrictions. The good news is that it’s got a decent jump in it.”

 

Joong nods,“Right, well, do that and we’ll, uh-”

 

 _“SKREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE-!”_ A shrill sound erupts from the very ship itself, and a bright flash of light blinds everyone for an instant. The ship joggles, practically sending Hongjoong and Jongho onto their asses.

 

The leader gasps, “What the hell was tha- oh my god.”

 

Looking out the window of the bridge, he realizes what the hell that was.

 

Where a solid hangar gate had once been now stans a hangar gate with a massive hole blown through the middle. The edges of the whole smolder and burn, superheated metal trickling down and around the sides of the opening. Small debris starts flying out through the massive breach. Hongjoong had thought it was chaos before. At this point, he doesn’t even know how to describe it.

 

“Sorry!” Yunho apologizes sheepishly, “I, uh, I pressed a button.”

 

“Do it again,” Hongjoong says.

 

“What?”

 

“I said do it again.”

 

“Huh?”

 

“That’s our way out, Yunho. Blow a hole big enough for us to get the hell out of here.”

 

“Oh- okay,” The humecanis obliges. “Um, maybe hold on this time.” Joong and Jongho do just that, bracing themselves and squinting their eyes.

 

 _“SKREEEEEEEEEEEEEE!”_ A huge laser fires from the combat freighter. This time, the crew is prepared - they’re not blinded and don’t fall over. The resulting hole is one big enough for them to slip through, and Yunho doesn’t hesitate to steer them straight toward it.

 

“How many people did we just kill?” Jongho asks in horror, watching as loose debris and bodies continue to get sucked out through the hangar breach.

 

“Relax,” Wooyoung waves dismissively, “Blackcoats have an emergency pressure suit in all of their uniforms. They won’t die from being in the vacuum of space. Unless they get hit by a ship or something-”

 

_“Thud!”_

 

“What was that?!” Jongho yelps.

 

“Nothing! It was nothing!” Yunho insists.

 

Even outside of the jail, sirens wail and lights flash.

 

“Incoming transmission! Incoming transmission!” A light suddenly flashes on the bridge’s HUD.

 

“Hang up! Hang up!” Hongjoong swats at Yunho.

 

The canis shrugs,“I- I don’t know how, lemme just-”

 

_“Beep!”_

 

He accidentally picks up.

 

A uniformed officer pops up on a projected screen, bellowing, “Kim Hongjoong and associates, you are in contempt of the law. Surrender now or-”

 

_“Click.”_

 

“Found the hang-up button!” Yunho chirps.

 

“And they found us,” Wooyoung frowns.

 

Hongjoong scans the horizon out the window.

 

Light beacons flash on top of the GC cruisers. They’re not giving up without a chase. KQ is dense - dense traffic, densely clustered buildings and structures. Maneuvering is going to be challenging, to put it likely.

 

Challenging but not impossible.

 

“Wooyoung, you said this thing’s got a good jump distance?”

 

“Yup! But you need security clearances. I’m working on overriding everything,” Wooyoung responds.

 

“Right,” Hongjoong taps his foot as he thinks. “Okay. Okay- So we just need to avoid them until - what - until we’re untraceable and we can jump, right?”

 

“Uh, yeah, I guess.”

 

“Okay. Yunho, do everything you can to shake them. We just have to stall until Wooyoung lifts the restrictions.”

 

“I’m not very familiar with this rig, but I’ll do my best. It might get a little bumpy.”

 

“We’ll hold on tight, right Jongho?”

 

“I love the illusion of choice you’re giving me here,” The kid says flatly. Joong’s glad he seems to be in good spirits.

 

“Incoming message! Incoming mess-”

 

_“Click.”_

 

“Got it this time,” Yunho preens proudly.

 

Hongjoong chuckles, “And we are so proud of y-”

 

 _“Boom.”_ The entire ship jerks without warning.

 

A robotic voice reports,“Superficial ballistic hit to outer shields. Shields down to ninety-eight percent.”

 

_“Boom.”_

 

“Ninety-five percent.”

 

“Okay- Yunho, let’s go.”

 

“Yes, sir!” Yunho responds.

 

Suddenly, the ship jumps forward again, and they begin to accelerate from cruising to speeding in seconds. GC cruisers sail toward them from every which direction, shooting everything from lasers to missiles their way.

 

_“Pew! Pew! Pew!” “Boom!” “Pew- pew pew!”_

 

“Incoming call! Incoming cal-”

 

“Ugh- I’ve had exes less obsessive than this!” Wooyoung scorns from his post in the pilot’s chair.

 

_“Pew! Pew!” “Hooooonk!” “Honk- honk!” “Pew!” “Boom.”_

 

“Oh god- we’re gonna die- we’re gonna die!” Jongho starts panicking. Hongjoong reaches out a reassuring hand, but he immediately regrets it. The kid squeezes it so intensely that Joong’s fairly certain something’s broken.

 

The world blurs around them as Yunho turns their ship every which way. They zip between buildings and underneath currents of traffic. Cross traffic honks angrily as they cut through intersections they have no business going through, and they narrowly miss a few buildings.

 

GC cruisers pursue relentlessly, unloading their arsenals in hopes of crippling them. Thankfully, their ship’s actually pretty hardy. The shields hold up decently, and there’s not too much kickback - at least yet.

 

“Should we be firing back?” Jongho asks meekly. He’s definitely the most out of their element of the group.

 

“I think we’re causing enough damage as is,” Hongjoong replies. “Innocent people don’t deserve to get hurt because of us.”

 

_“Pew! Pew! Pew!” “Zaaap-!” “Boom!”_

 

“Well, _they_ don’t seem to care,” Jongho remarks.

 

“Trust me,” Wooyoung cuts in, “They don’t.”

 

 _“Boom!”_ A missile hits them square on the side, knocking the two unseated ones over.

 

“Shit-!” “Is everyone okay?” “Ow.”

 

“Shields at eighty percent.”

 

_“Pew! Pew! Pew!”_

 

Hongjoong frowns,“Yunho can we try leading them out of the colony? Somewhere more open?”

 

Yunho shakes his head, “We’re not gonna outrun a bunch of cruisers. Plus KQ’s massive. There is no ‘out’ anywhere near here.” The ship jerks to the side again, and Hongjoong clings for dear life.

 

“I’m almost done,” Wooyoung mutters, typing furiously.

 

The ship squeezes between two buildings and rounds a corner and is put face to face with two more cruisers.

 

_“Bang! Bang!”_

 

Hongjoong winces as he watches the missiles hit their shields head on.

 

“Shields seventy percent.”

 

That’s not what anyone wants to hear. Yunho flies straight between them, but the light cruisers are agile. They turn quickly and continue their pursuit. They’re calculated and communicating, Hongjoong can tell. As soon as they seem to lose a few - whether it’s between buildings or under a floating island - more are just present to meet them. It gets harder and harder to dodge them, and the shields start eating a lot of small hits. It starts compounding, and Hongjoong’s heart sinks.

 

“Shields forty percent.”

 

“Guys, careful,” Yunho warns as he steers the ship around a sharp turn. Hongjoong and Jongho almost go flying across the bridge, but they’re used to holding on by this point.

 

They shake the two behind them, but there’s twice as many in front of them when they round the corner.

 

_“Boom!” “Boom!”_

 

“Shields thirty percent.”

 

Joong taps his hacker on the shoulder,“Wooyoung, I don’t want to rush you, but-“

 

“I’m _working_ on it,” The other responds strainedly.

 

“Right- okay- Yunho can you go through them?”

 

“Yeah we’re bigger than them, but I don’t know how much longer this can last.”

 

 _“Pew- pew- pew! Pew-pew-“_ “Incoming call! Incoming call!” _“Boom.” “Bang!” “Pew!”_

 

“Quick, through there!” Hongjoong points between two close towers.

 

“Wh- Are you serious?! That’s insane!” Jongho squeaks.

 

“Exactly. They won’t expect it.”

 

“Because it’s insa- wh-!”

 

Yunho turns the ship as instructed, and Jongho sings a litany of curses as the ship practically overturns. Warnings pop up left and right on the projected display: “Shields below thirty percent.” “Straining gyroscopic leveler.” “Incoming message!” “Shields twenty-five percent.”

 

_“Clang! Clang!”_

 

Loud noises reverberate through the hull of the freighter as they graze the floating towers ever so slightly. Everyone on the bridge holds a collective breath, tense and waiting for them to make it into the clear. They clear the slim gap swiftly (even though it feels like a million years). The engine whistles as the freighter slips between two buildings, and they emerge on the other side, a clear path ahead.

 

Yunho doesn’t hesitate, punching the acceleration to jet them forward. For the first time, there aren’t any cruisers in sight, and the incessant warnings take a brief break. Hongjoong wants to drop to the floor with relief, and Jongho actually does.

 

“Did we actually lose them?” Joong asks wearily.

 

“If we haven’t, we will soon,” Wooyoung responds. “I’m close to- to… What the hell is that?”

 

“What’s what?”

 

Yunho elaborates, “I think he’s talking about that.” The canis points just out the bridge window, right in front of them.

 

Hongjoong’s gaze follows the other’s finger. At first, he’s not sure what Yunho’s talking about. All he sees is some regular ship traffic and a big space station. He searches for cruisers but doesn’t find any. He glances around again and that’s when he realizes:

 

That massive thing in front of them isn’t a space station.

 

It’s a ship.

 

A massive warship.

 

Emblazoned across it’s gleaming hull is the Galactic Coalition’s naval crest. They didn’t evade the Coalition. They’d gotten routed by them. All those cruisers chasing them and stopping - it wasn’t because they’d been outrun, it was because they didn’t need to catch them.

 

“Incoming message!” “Incoming message!”

 

_“Click.”_

 

“Do you think we can outrun that?” Jongho asks weakly.

 

Hongjoong’s heart falls to the floor. He swears he can hear it splintering into a million pieces. The sound he hears is _actually_ the warship’s laser cannons arming. Dozens of cannons from small to as big as a starship pop out from the hull’s panelling, their barrels glowing as they charge. A low whistle hums throughout their ship as the cannons are armed.

 

He starts to say,“Wooyoung-“

 

“I got it- I got it!” Wooyoung replies. He presses a button, and the ship’s AI announces:

 

“Manual override procedures complete. Commencing hard reboot. All systems save for essential life support restarting. Assure all loose cargo are secured.”

 

Yunho frowns, “Why do loose things need to be secured?”

 

Jongho scoffs,“You’re worried about that when that thing is pointing like a thousand lasers at us?”

 

Suddenly the ship goes dark. The lights shut off in an instant, and the ones from outside cast the bridge in an eery, bluish light.

 

“What was that?” Hongjoong asks, his voice shrill with panic. To make matters worse, his body starts to lift off of the floor. “What’s going on?”

 

“Uh, so, I had to do a complete reboot,” Wooyoung murmurs.

 

Hongjoong starts unintentionally flailing as his body is suspended. Apparently, that’s what the message meant by securing loose cargo. Turns out the ship doesn’t consider gravity an “essential life support” function. The leader reaches out to grab onto something (anything) so he doesn’t float up to the ceiling.

 

“Those cannons look hot, they’re about to fire,” Hongjoong says.

 

“It’s almost done,” Wooyoung says. He’s got one arm slung around his chair, holding on stubbornly. Unfortunately, Jongho isn’t quite as lucky as the others, and he’s almost floated out of the bridge.

 

“Rebooting…” The ship’s robotic voice intonates.

 

Beads of light start collecting in front of the warship’s cannons - a sure sign they’re about to fire.

 

“Can it reboot any faster?” Joong practically begs. He swears he hears Yunho whimper quietly.

 

“No, it can’t reboot any faster. Just give it a second.”

 

“We don’t have a second Wooyoung, those lasers are almost ready to fire.”

 

“Just… One… Second-“

 

“We don’t _have_ a second,” Hongjoong replies through gritted teeth. Yunho’s hand shoots out to grab his. The canis squeezes the human’s tightly.

 

Wooyoung reaches out toward the console as his body gradually tries to float further away,“Just one more-“

 

White, blinding light fills the bridge. A faint humming noise filters in through the layers of glass and metal - the sound of hundreds of cannons unleashing their munitions simultaneously.

 

“We’ve run out of time,” The words drop from Hongjoong’s mouth numbly. His eyes adjust, and myriad needles of light fill the space between them and the warship. They approach from every angle imaginable, blocking out the sight of anything else.

 

“Reboot complete!” The ship’s AI chirps.

 

The sequence of events that follows unfolds so rapidly, Hongjoong hardly remembers it. It all happens in a single instant.

 

Lasers race toward the crew’s combat freighter. The second the reboot is finished, the ship’s mechanisms turn back on with a whirring sound. Lights illuminate the ship once more, and gravity pulls everyone back to the ground without warning. There’s cries, curses, and whines - though which ones came from whom, nobody can guess. Wooyoung is the one to slam the steering console - that’s for certain. His hand pounds against the PC with a loud thud, and the ship lurches.

 

“Warp activated.”

 

The world around the ship stretches and distorts, and there’s another flash of light.

 

Then quiet.

 

Unfathomable quiet.

 

Hongjoong wonders:

 

Am I dead?

 

Silence spans from seconds to minutes before anyone makes a sound. The first few that come out of the escape crew are pained moans and groans. There’s the sound of strained stretching and bones popping, puzzled whispers and gasps of disbelief.

 

Hongjoong grabs onto the nearby pilot’s seat to hoist himself up. His face deforms into a pained expression from the agony rippling down his body.

 

Voice raspy, he asks, “I-is everyone okay?”

 

Wooyoung and Yunho had luckily managed to land in their chairs. While Yunho’s face is buried in his arms on the console, Wooyoung leans back, arms limp to the side. Jongho hadn’t been so lucky, and he remains splayed out on the floor wearing a sullen expression.

 

“I’m… Alive?” Yunho squeaks out. He ventures a peek out from under his arms, and his tail lifts with hopefulness.

 

“I’m in too much pain to not be alive,” Wooyoung chokes out.

 

Jongho just grunts.

 

“Holy shit,” Hongjoong’s knees give out, and he drops to the ground. “Holy shit. Did we- did we actually survive that?”

 

“Barely,” Wooyoung replies.

 

“I can’t feel my leg,” Jongho pouts.

 

Yunho shakily stands, stretching his long body out for the first time since they’d stolen the freighter, “Let’s find the infirmary together. They’ve gotta have first aid somewhere, and anti-stun serum is pretty standard.”

 

He helps Jongho up, and the two disappear off of the bridge. Joong doesn’t hesitate to plop into the unoccupied seat. He imitates Wooyoung, leaning back and letting all the tension flood from his body as he goes limp.

 

The two stay draped over their chairs in silence for awhile.

 

Hongjoong can acknowledge the sheer insanity of the situation, but he’s not positive he can comprehend it. He and Yunho woke up that morning on their junk heap of a ship. They’d headed to some far dock to take on what was supposed to be a simple (albeit slightly sketchy) job. In the short span of their waking hours, they’d done a delivery, been taken into police custody, questioned, thrown in a cell and conspired to break out. They - along with two strangers who they somehow managed to trust - broke out, got chased through the jail, grabbed something from one ship, broken into another (that was government property), and evaded their almost certain death at the hands of hundreds of lasers.

 

“Hey, lemme see that thing?” Wooyoung breaks the quiet.

 

“What?” Hongjoong’s lost for a second.

 

“The Compass,” Wooyoung sits up straighter and nods to the bag that Hongjoong had almost surgically affixed to himself. “You went to the trouble to get that. We could’ve just gotten the hell out of dodge, but you had to get it. I bailed you out of this mess, least you can do is show it to me.”

 

“Right,” The older concedes, Wooyoung does have a point. He carefully unstraps the bag that was so snug to his body he’d forgotten it was there. Delicately, he withdraws its contents - the mysterious, dome-shaped map device called the Compass.

 

“Whoa… Can I touch it?”

 

“Go ahead. Shit, if you can figure something out, I’d be thrilled. I can get little bits of info here and there, but it’s not stable.”

 

Wooyoung takes it from Hongjoong carefully. He does pretty much the same thing Joong and Yunho did; he turns it around in his hands and studies every little nook and cranny. His fingers graze the outside and trace the ornate little engravings.

 

“You’re right about what you said,” He tells Hongjoong, mouth ajar in awe of the thing. “I’ve never seen anything like this. There’s- there’s definitely slots for like, parts or something. But these ports I’ve- I don’t even know what would plug into something like this.”

 

“Well, I guess we can figure it out. Er- I can-“

 

“Nah, I’m invested now. I wanna figure this thing out, too,” Wooyoung presses his lips together and gives Hongjoong a sideways glance. It’s anxious and inquisitive, like he’s asking for permission.

 

“As long as you pull your weight,” Hongjoong replies. Wooyoung tries to play it cool, but Joong sees the edges of the other’s lips upturn. “Where did you dump us, anyways? I don’t see anything near here.”

 

“I literally warped us as far as this thing could possibly jump. We’re probably in the middle of nowhere, but we can figure it out later. I wasn’t exactly thinking when I punched the button.”

 

“And it’s that lightning quick lack of thought that I appreciate.”

 

“Hey,” Yunho’s voice crops up behind them, “You guys need any first aid? I found the infirmary.” He slowly comes into view as he ascends the steps to the bridge.

 

Wooyoung snarks,“Depends. Does the first aid kit include soju?” The other two chuckle.

 

“There’s rubbing alcohol, but I dunno if you wanna toast with that, though,” The canis replies, leaning against Hongjoong’s chair.

 

“We should toast with _something_ ,” The leader says, a relieved smile blossoming on his face. “We got out of that mess. That’s cause for celebration in my book. I mean, we did get out, right? Like they aren’t gonna chase us or anything?”

 

Wooyoung shakes his head, “She’s basically a new ship. Any outgoing communications might ping something, but she’s not trackable by anything other than local radar. Won’t come up as a government vessel, either.”

 

“Dude, you are a genius,” Yunho compliments him, his tail wagging.

 

“I just know what I’m doing is all,” Wooyoung shrugs with a little grin. “Wait- Where’s the little one?”

 

Yunho responds,“Hongjoong’s right here.”

 

“Ha. _Ha_ ,” The eldest rolls his eyes. “He’s talking about Jongho.”

 

Wooyoung stifles his snort and nods,“Yeah. That little one. Is he okay?”

 

Yunho nods, “Yeah, he’s in the infirmary resting on a cot. They’re pretty well stocked, so I’m guessing the ships lined up in that hangar are ready to go or something. I hit him with the anti-stun on his leg and he nodded off after that.”

 

“Aww, our little killing machine, all tuckered out,” Wooyoung jokes.

 

Joongswats Wooyoung on the shoulder,“Don’t call him that, he’s a person! One that bailed our asses out a few times, too.”

 

“I never said he wasn’t a person. He is a person. Just a very deadly person.”

 

“He’s a kid. Seriously- what was he even doing in a high security holding cell?”

 

“Uh, did you see what he did to the guards? I think that answers your question.”

 

“Yeah, but- I dunno. He doesn’t seem like the type to just start fights. I wonder what got him in there.”

 

“Well, it’s none of our business,” Wooyoung shrugs nonchalantly. “He’ll tell us if he feels like. For now, we should let him rest. I mean- I sure as hell do not wanna be the one waking him up.”

 

“What if we need to, though,” Yunho posits, “Like, would we determine who has to by rock, paper, scissors or…”

 

The two trail off into a rambling argument of hypotheticals. Hongjoong hears them, but he doesn’t listen. He finds himself zoning out, looking out beyond the bridge. There’s stars everywhere. Brilliant, burning stars. Some glow big and bright, while others flicker weakly. They smolder in shades of orange, blue, and green, sweeping across the vast expanse beyond.

 

Hongjoong had travelled on his old starship countless times, but for the first time he actually looks at it.

 

Space had never been so beautiful to him.

 

For the first time ever, Hongjoong feels like it’s his. Space is his - his to explore and navigate, his to bear witness to as he pleases. His mind isn’t on the next job or keeping his crappy ship afloat or what junk he’s got in the cargo hold. He knows there’s obligation and unrefundable repercussions to his actions, but for a second, none of that weighs him down. For just an instant he wonders:

 

Where do I want to go next?

 

“...y tail it’s like grabbing your ass! You just don’t do that!” Yunho’s boisterous laughter pulls Hongjoong back to the present.

 

“What? No it’s not. My ass doesn’t have vertebrae,” Wooyoung argues.

 

“It so is! It’s a violation of my personal spa- hey! Don’t touch it!”

 

“I have to know! It’s so fluffy.”

 

“Stop trying to grab my tail you pervert!”

 

“It’s wagging, though-“

 

“Okay, children,” Hongjoong laughs, “Break it up. We should probably figure out where we need to go.”

 

“He started it,” Yunho whines.

 

“So help me god, I will end it. I’m serious we need to map out our next location.”

 

_“Click-click.”_

 

“I wouldn’t worry about that if I were you,” A chilling voice rings out behind them. A peculiar frostiness outlines the voice’s tone. Hongjoong almost feels as if he’s heard it before, but he can’t place it. It’s sure as hell not Jongho.

 

The trio turn slowly, and they go silent when met with the painfully familiar sight of a pristine black uniform. The tall, fit figure darkens the doorway to the bridge, gun trained on the three at the pilot’s chairs.

 

Agony punches Hongjoong in the chest, the sensation splintering and spreading through his entire body. His jaw drops, and his eyes blow open at the sight of the officer. The mere sight of him makes Joong’s skin crawl, adding an extra layer of discomfort to the painful sensation delving a pit in his ribcage.

 

“Oh, I’m sorry. Did I interrupt your gallivanting?” The blackcoat lets out a hollow laugh. “Put your hands up. Now.”

 

Hongjoong stutters,“How— how the hell did you-“

 

“ _Now_ ,” The officer cuts him off, “Quietly, too. Don’t wanna wake sleeping beauty in the infirmary. What’s the matter, Kim Hongjoong? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

 

Hongjoong doesn’t respond. Instead he just presses his lips together defiantly. Ideas and possible outs reel through his head, but nothing quite sticks. His brain feels like a sieve, all his thoughts just running straight through. He can register emotions: shock, devastation, dread, loathing - that’s about it.

 

For some reason, one look at that pristine, platinum blond hair and those glacier blue eyes render him braindead.

 

“How- how did you-?”

 

“Same way you did. Hopped onto the loading ramp of the ship. The ship you _stole_. Of course, that doesn’t matter because I’m going to return it. Along with all of you. You are all under arrest. In addition to your initial charges, we’ll also be adding attempted escape from imprisonment, aggravated assault, aggravated battery, obstruction of justice, _kidnapping_ \- I hope you enjoy life sentences.”

 

Hongjoong opens his mouth to protest, but he eyes the gun pointed at him. Petty Officer Prettyboy can set that thing to malignant or fatal and take them out in a second. Hongjoong doesn’t dare risk pissing the guy off.

 

Instead, he tries to reason him, “Please, Officer, just-“

 

“That’s Petty Officer Park to you.”

 

That’s right, Joong remembers: Petty Officer Park Seonghwa. It doesn’t quite have the ring to it “Petty Officer Prettyboy” does, but he neglects to comment on that. Seems like a bad time given that the man has a gun pointed to them.

 

The officer stands up tall, clearly preening himself for the big win. Voice cool and features the picture of resolute formality, he continues speaking.

 

“Now that I’ve gotten your attention, I am obligated to inform you: you have the right to remain silent, anything you say can and will be-“

 

_“Thwaaak!”_

 

Just as suddenly as Officer Park had started talking, he stops. The trio by the nav console look on with wide eyes, stupefied for a few moments. Officer Park just freezes. He blinks rapidly a few times and stumbles forward. The entire trio shrinks back, terrified that the worst is gonna happen. Then the gun falls from his hand.

 

Seconds later, he crumbles to the ground with a soft thud.

 

Yawning behind where the blackcoat had been standing is a half asleep Choi Jongho. His mussed hair sticks out in different directions. The fluffy hair might as well be a halo as far as Hongjoong is concerned.

 

“What was that about?” Their guardian angel yawns.

 

“Holy shit. You just saved our lives,” Yunho gasps.

 

“I did?” Jongho yawns.

 

Wooyoung hops out of his seat to inspect the unconscious officer. The others join him, prodding and poking the unconscious GC officer.

 

“Well, now what?” Jongho asks.

 

Wooyoung and Yunho shrug, looking to Hongjoong.

 

“Uh,” The leader thinks for a few moments, “This is war freighter, basically - right? Doesn’t seem unheard of that there’s a brig or some secure holding spot for cargo. Or people.”

 

The others nod and mutter responses; “Yeah.” “Seems legit.” “I guess.”

 

“Yunho, you and Jongho find somewhere keep him- oh, and, make sure you strip him of anything dangerous. After that, let’s explore this ship. See what we’ve got to work with.”

 

“Yes, sir.” “Right.” The two respond. Jongho grabs a fist full of the officer’s indicative black coat and starts dragging him down the stairs. Yunho follows at his tail, and their voices care up to the bridge as they depart.

 

“I wonder if he’s got anything cool.” “I dunno.” “Like a grenade.” “Why would he be carrying a grenade?” “Why not?” “They’re dangerous.” “That’s the point. Why would someone carry a grenade to…”

 

* * *

 

“Did you guys tuck him in nice and tight?” Hongjoong asks jokingly when the humecanis and young human return to the bridge. The pair nods in confirmation.

 

“You were right about the brig thing,” Yunho responds. “There’s a big holding cell down there- bottom level past the cargo bay. Stripped him down to just pants and a shirt. Unless he’s got a gun up his ass, he won’t be a problem.”

 

“I’m sure he’s got something up his ass, but it’s not a gun.”

 

Jongho rolls his eyes,“As fascinating as I find this subject, I’ve gotta know, now that everything’s settled down a bit… Where to, captain?”

 

It takes Hongjoong a second to realize the question is addressed to him. Both Wooyoung and Yunho join Jongho in looking at him expectantly.

 

Captain?

 

_Captain?_

 

Something about the title makes Joong’s heart hop happily in his chest and glow with warmth. He suppresses a smile and gingerly lifts the Compass off of the piloting console he’d set it on. Carefully, he moves over to the navigation console in the middle of the bridge and sets it down. Normally, a proper nav PC or preloaded map drive is put in one of those things - Joong supposes that the Compass will have to do. Sure, it doesn’t have any of the typical ports, cables, or apparent wireless sensors to connect, but It is a map. He’s fairly certain it should work. Probably.

 

Maybe?

 

Hopefully.

 

The brassy base of the compass sits flat on top of the nav console, and, for a few moments, nothing happens. Just as the expression of perturbment starts shaping the captain’s features, something begins to happen.

 

The Compass once again projects a map - but this time bigger than ever before. The diameter of the flickering star chart almost matches Hongjoong’s height. It leaves all present in a state of hushed, almost reverent awe. Every eye in the bridge watches in fascination as the strange device comes to life. Little specks of light dot the once empty space of the bridge, illustrating the vastness surrounding them - or perhaps even the likeness of a completely different sector.

 

Hesitantly, Hongjoong reaches forward and taps on the glass of the thing.

 

Suddenly, the flashing and glitching completely halts.

 

A single beacon flashes in a distant part of their map, and Hongjoong realizes - it’s not too far at all. Coordinates flash up above the place, and a little smile teases at the edges of his lips.

 

“There,” He instructs the others, “That’s where we’re going.”

 

“Yes, sir,” Yunho says, “I’ll punch them in. We can do a low econ cruise for now - don’t wanna attract attention.” He starts typing into the nav console.

 

“We can start exploring the ship,” Wooyoung says. Jongho agrees, and the two exit the bridge quickly.

 

“I call dibs on the biggest room.” Voices echo into the bridge. “What? No. You can’t call dibs.” “Just did.” “That’s not how dibs work.” “I’m pretty sure it is.”

 

“Aw- They’re calling dibs on rooms?” Yunho pouts. “Wait up!” He hollers out the door. “It’s on autopilot, by the way, captain.”

 

“Uh, okay,” Hongjoong replies. “So you’re gonna-“

 

“Wait for me!” Yunho shouts, running after the other two. “No dibs without me!”

 

“I’ll rock paper scissors you for this room!” “You’ll never win.” “Nuh-uh- no way, this is my room.” “No fair this has the best view.” “Is there only one shower?” “Yunho do you shed a lot?” “What?” “I wasn’t there…”

 

Hongjoong laughs to himself. He doesn’t wanna miss out on a nice room, but he decides to let the others have a heads tart. It doesn’t make a big difference to him. Everything’s an upgrade over his old junkboat anyways.

 

He’s alive and, for the first time in his life, free.

 

Really free.

 

At least, he feels that way. Sure, he hadn’t been a fugitive before - not in the technical sense. But how different is feeling trapped by personally locked shackles from real prison? The guns that despair wields are metaphorical but do no less harm.

 

Joong heaves a happy sigh and leans against the pilot console, resting his chin on his hands. Contently, he just watches. Stars speck as far as far as the eye can see. Some flicker while others burn brightly, a few swim across the sky lackadaisical, leaving a trail of fading light in their path. It’s serene yet terrifying, the magnitude of it. Yet, knowing he can travel to where he wants - where he needs - fills Hongjoong with cautious hope.

 

“This look’s like the captain’s quarters!” A yell filters into the bridge.

 

“Dibs!” Hongjoong shouts before even thinking. “Dibs! Dibs- dibs!” He hollers. All the profound thoughts of figurative prisons and the great beyond flush out of his head immediately as he races down to the levels below. “I call dibs!”

 

His yelling soon blends with that of the rest of the group, and the KQ F3LL4Z combat freighter erupts into a hyperactive frenzy. There’s a whole universe out there to explore, but for now, for those young men, their new ship - and the life they’d come to lead on it - is the most exciting frontier of all.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> // Super fun vocab!
> 
> Luzidium (n):  
> \- fictional super strong, versatile mineral not found on Old Earth  
> \- various applications  
> \- poisonous to pretty much all living things if ingested, inhaled in large quantities or contact is made with unrefined, pure product
> 
> Galactic Coalition (n):  
> \- umbrella governing body whose control spans the universe (save for a few independent planets and sectors)
> 
> Humecanis (n):  
> \- a race of hybrid humanoids engineered by humes millenia ago  
> \- humanoids that possess canine features such as but not limited to: a tail, sensitivity to sound, and a keen sense of smell
> 
> Space Colony (n):  
> \- a large settlement in space that is a collection of suspended stations, islands, microplanets and other structures
> 
> Junker (n):  
> \- a person whose occupation is to scavenge discarded goods and collect pieces to sell for scrap or salvage

**Author's Note:**

> // None of the person(s) or brand(s) presented in this piece belong to me. 
> 
> Inspired by: Firefly, Cowboy Bebop, One Piece, Star Trek, Irresponsible Captain Tylor and countless other sci-fi adventures.


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